In The Pale Moonlight
by AnteNomad
Summary: A year after Ultimecia's defeat, SeeD is at the mercy of a far more insidious foe. This new conflict strikes at the very heart of the institution of Garden, and once again, their worst enemy may be one of their own.
1. The Hunted

**NOTICE:**_Final Fantasy VIII and all related characters, locations, and odd-sounding words are copyright © 1998 by Square. Absolutely no revenue is made from the use of the aforementioned or from this story in general. This is a fictional, unofficial story, and the ideas expressed within may or may not reflect those of Square or anyone else. Duplication of this work without the knowledge or consent of the author will seriously annoy him, and the use of this story for profit-making purposes may cause Square to sue you. This text applies whether you read it or not. All your base are belong to us._

–

- - **— IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT —** - -

_A **Final Fantasy VIII** fan fiction_

–

_Right and wrong are not what separate us and our enemies. It's our different standpoints, our perspectives that separate us.  
...There's no good or bad side. Just two sides holding different views._

—Squall Leonhart

- - **- — — -** - -

The sea was calm, stretching out like a tabletop with the water appearing as flat as it could possibly be. A near-perfect reflection of the full moon shone on the water ahead. There was no sight of land anywhere on the horizon, and not a single cloud to obscure the brilliant vista of stars in the night sky. It would soon be winter at this latitude, and there was a chill in the air that wavered just at the edge of discomfort.

Sails retracted, the ship sliced through the water, its twin hydrofans producing only a slight whirring as they pushed it forward through the calm, silent sea. Nonetheless, this whirring was the only sound of any kind to break the quiet around them. It was the sort of moment where time seemed to stand frozen: there was no hurry to get anything done, no need to rush; everything was calm, peaceful, and still.

If only it were true.

Stepping onto the ship's deck, Janson spared a moment to remove the off-white headband that was intended to secure his long, dark hair. He immediately replaced the band, securing his hair against the slight wind he had just stepped into. Though it wasn't wind, really. The ship was cruising at a steady thirty-two knots, and he was feeling the resistance of the still air as the ship drove through it.

Not that it made much difference either way.

"Hey! You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Did too! Janson, Vincent's cheatin' again!"

Janson looked at the trio of children gathered under the bridge ladder, apparently in the middle of a card game. Crouching down, he fixed his eyes on the youngest of the three, who was glaring indignantly at one of the others. "Vincent, what did we tell you about dishonesty?"

"But I didn' do an'thing!"

"Vincent," Janson said forcefully.

After a moment, the boy threw down his cards — he had two more than a full hand — pouting, "I jus' wanted to beat Furg'son fir once."

"If you have to cheat, you're admitting that you'll never be able to beat him," Janson chided. "Just be fair, and you'll win sooner or later. And trust me, it'll feel a lot better."

With that, he left them to their game and proceed forward to the bow of the ship. A lone form was standing there, hands clasped unconsciously in the traditional 'at ease' posture behind her cream-colored uniform. Her reddish-brown hair was caught in the apparent breeze and, despite the best efforts of her headband, was flapping about much as it pleased.

"Hello, Lina," he said.

She didn't respond at first, except with a slight motion of her head to acknowledge his voice. "It's a beautiful night," she said softly, not taking her eyes off the expanse of ocean ahead of him.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, in a tone just as soft as hers.

Lina's sigh was barely audible. "You know, standing here like this, it's easy to forget that we're running for our lives."

A shadow crossed over Janson's face. "There's nothing we can do for now. Either we've lost them or we haven't; we'll just have to wait and see."

He sensed Lina's smile. "So we might as well enjoy the view."

The memory of their recent battle had caused Janson's shoulder wound to begin throbbing once more. He did his best to ignore the pain, to concentrate on the vastness of the water and the brilliance of the moon and stars above, but the moment had passed. "It's nothing to worry about," he said, more to convince himself than her. "We've gotten out of tougher situations than this."

She sighed. "I know. But..." She turned to him, and Janson abandoned the sea and the stars to return her gaze. "We can't keep running forever, can we? I mean, what are we doing out here? Maybe...we should just settle down, join one of the Gardens. I'm sure they would..." She trailed off.

"We can't, Lina. _They_ run the Gardens; you know that." He gestured behind him, toward the invisible fleet. "We're the only true SeeDs left, and we can't let them take us too."

Nodding slightly, she looked down at the wooden deck plates, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know. But sometimes...I don't know how I feel. I wonder...is this how I'll spend the rest of my life? What kind of an existence is this? I don't know if I can go on, Janson."

"We have to. We have to continue Garden, the way Matron wanted."

"I know. It's just hard facing this, day after day. Especially at times like this."

"It's hard for all of us. But we can't give in. That's when they'll have truly won."

Suddenly, the night's quiet peace was shattered by an unmistakable high-pitched whistle. Janson spun around, searching the sky with an efficiency born from far too much experience. He saw nothing, but an instant later, there was a clap of thunder and a blinding flash erupted not a hundred meters off their bow.

"_Everyone, get below decks!_" the loudspeaker commanded. Without another word, Janson and Lina broke off in a run — she to usher the younger children off the deck, he toward the stairs that led to the ship's bridge. Another shell plowed into the water some distance ahead of the ship, and he could feel the wave as he scaled the stairs. By now, the sea was far from calm.

"What happened?" he demanded of the SeeD manning the bridge. "Why didn't we get some kind of warning?"

"They came out of nowhere!" Davis exclaimed, pointing at the tiny radar screen while nervously running his other hand through his curly black hair. "A minute ago, I couldn't see a thing; the first clue I got was when the shelling started!"

Janson looked at the radar display, then through the binoculars out behind the ship. The Galbadian fleet was barely visible, even with night vision, as a few dots on the flat horizon. The only light he could see was a flash as one of the ships fired another shell into the air.

"They were running silent," he observed. "It wasn't your fault." _And it can't be helped now, in any case._ "Where are we? Let me see the automap."

Davis complied, narrating, "It'll be hours before we reach Centra. But our only other choice is to turn around, make a run back to Galbadia. And I don't think that would be any quicker."

"Can you get anything more out of the engines?"

"Not without burning them out again, like last time. We'll have to power down in a couple hours as it is."

"Well, is there _anything_ we can do?" Despite his best efforts, desperation was creeping into Janson's voice. This was all happening too fast, and he feared they might have already run out of time.

Davis shook his head, looking very tired and worn out. "Not unless we can learn to fly."

_After all this time, is it going to come to nothing?_ he thought, looking back at the fleet on the horizon. _Is this the end of it all?_

Another shell impacted the water off to starboard, and the concussion from the blast rocked the ship to one side. For the barest of moments, Janson thought they were going to capsize.

Around then, he decided that he would never accept defeat. _I'm not giving up without a fight,_ he resolved. _If they want us, they're going to have to work for it._

"Tell Rey to push the engines as far as they'll go," he commanded. "Drop everything heavy that we don't absolutely need over the side. And find us a wind!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" Davis saluted, and began relaying the orders to the crew. Satisfied that he had done all he could for the moment, Janson looked back at the fleet, invisible to the naked eye.

And he saw a dark object falling straight for the ship.

"Look out!" he shouted, throwing himself to the floor as the shell exploded, almost exactly above their center sail. He automatically shielded his ears against the miniature thunderclap, but there was no way he could escape the wave of compressed air forced outward by the explosion, and the flying shards off glass and wood that had been the bridge's back wall. Before his mind could sort out the confusion, he had abandoned consciousness entirely.


	2. Dance and Destruction

**June 1**

"To be honest, when I visited this Garden a year ago, I had doubts that it could ever be rebuilt."

Squall listened to Xu's speech with half an ear, a technique he had managed to perfect during hundreds of meetings with long-winded diplomats or contract negotiators. Normally, he had several methods to prevent himself from scowling during such events, but today he was too preoccupied to care.

"What I see today is a testament to the loyalty and determination of the Trabia student body," Xu continued. "You all deserve to be very proud of what you have accomplished here.

"Now, I know there have been some rumors flying around for the last few weeks, and one of the reasons I came up here was to answer what I think is everybody's question. I have had a long discussion with Headmaster Davis, and we've decided that, effective this year, Trabia Garden will be expanded to accommodate the training and housing of SeeD members. Trabia graduates will no longer have to transfer to B-Garden to become SeeDs; you may complete your training and stay right here!"

As expected, the announcement brought a roaring cheer from the crowd. Despite the fact that T-Garden had an enrollment of less than two hundred, they certainly knew how to make their voices heard. And allowing Trabia its own SeeDs was like a dream come true for them. Only Squall and the women at the podium really knew how easily it could turn into a nightmare.

Xu had moved on, speaking of the new level of responsibility that would be required from both students and faculty in the coming months. Squall tried to pay attention, but couldn't manage to focus his thoughts. His gaze constantly slipped down to the ring that rested on his left hand. It was a simple silver wedding band, and so small that it would only fit on his little finger, but somehow it seemed perfectly natural. The polished surface seemed to sparkle in the outdoor lights of the Trabian night.

_I just hope it isn't the last thing I ever see of her._

"...So do your best, and always uphold the honor and dignity of Garden!" Xu finished, stepping from the podium amidst the applause of the assembled crowd. Glad that the affair was over, Squall turned and disappeared into the mass of people with practiced ease. His SeeD uniform still rustled slightly as he moved, but he had long since become so accustomed to the sensation to even notice. After all, he probably spent more time in the uniform than anything else nowadays.

The gleaming spectacle of the reconstructed Garden could not help but catch his eye. Illuminated by floodlights, the sparkling gold ring cast a pattern of light on the grey-green walls of the building itself. The lower level seemed completely different, as the old walls had been removed and the main hall now rested in the open air, with only the supports running around the edge to mark where the wall would be. Despite this Garden's inability to fly, it looked more than anything like some strange airship ready to leap into the sky.

"Sir? Commander Leonhart?"

Squall blinked to see a boy of about fifteen, wearing a Trabia student's uniform. He looked about to hyperventilate.

"Sir, I was wondering, are you going to command the SeeDs here, too? Or do we get our own Commander? Who's it going to be? Do you know? Have you decided yet? You are going to pick someone, aren't you? Is—"

"You should really talk to one of the headmasters," Squall said. "They're really the ones making these decisions." Even that simple response was born from months of diplomacy, and he did not want to test the rest of his training. He turned to walk away.

"Wait!" The boy now looked positively desperate. "Can I have your autograph, sir?"

Squall sighed. "Do you have anything to write with?"

The boy froze. "Um...no..." he gulped. "I...I'm sorry." And he turned and ran off into the crowd.

The cut across the bridge of his nose had healed nearly a year ago, but nonetheless Squall's forehead was throbbing. Shaking his head, he walked over toward the outdoor fountain.

"This is so boring! Aren't we supposed to be having a party?"

Squall instinctively squinted at the sound of Selphie's voice. He saw his comrades standing on the opposite side of the fountain, apparently not seeing him. Selphie was perched on the rim of the fountain, with Irvine, Quistis, and Nida standing opposite her. Zell and Paige, who was chatting with a few other members of the Library Committee, seemed to be leaning on each other nearby.

"I've been to plenty of assemblies, Sefie," Irvine was saying. "This is the most exciting one yet."

"Irvine!" Quistis chided, punching his arm good-naturedly.

"No, he's got a point," Nida defended. "There were times when Instructor Aki would put half the class to sleep."

"Hey, just because all the other assemblies on the planet are boring, doesn't mean this one has to be," Paige suggested, leaning into the conversation. "Right, Zell?"

"Huh? –right," Zell said automatically, drawing a giggle from Quistis.

The scene wasn't particularly unique; the lot of them seemed to be drawn together at nearly every Garden function since Ultimecia's defeat. Everyone looked different now, though. There were the superficial changes — Quistis wore her hear in a ponytail, Irvine had cut his, Selphie had let hers grow out in the back but trimmed it a bit on the sides for a style that defied logic in a new and different way — but mostly, everyone was simply more relaxed now. And happier.

Everyone else was, anyway.

"Heey, I just had an idea!" Selphie exclaimed, jumping from her perch on the rim of the fountain. "Come on, Irvine!"

"Your wish is my command," Irvine smiled and, with a sideways glance at Quistis and Nida, went off right on Selphie's heels.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to check out the food bar," Zell said, jumping up himself.

"And I'd better make sure he leaves some for everyone else," Paige added, smiling.

Squall took only passing note of his friends' conversations, remaining on the opposite side of the fountain. His mind seemed capable of focusing on only one thing at the moment; and that was the one member of their group who was _not_ there.

Squall's hand unconsciously moved to his pocket, where the letter rested. He could practically recite it from memory; she seemed to keep sending him the same one over and over, the only difference being the modifier for 'sorry.' Squall had come to expect it.

But this time was different. They had planned this months ahead of time, and she had promised that she would keep the date, no matter what. But just this morning, a letter had came saying that there was an opportunity that she simply couldn't pass up. Of course, she had promised to make it up in any way she could, but those promises had long since lost their meaning to him.

Even so, he was far more worried than angry. Whenever she was away, he felt obligated to do something, anything to help her, but he never could. SeeD could not afford any involvement with a faction like the Forest Owls; if the Galbadians had any idea what he and his friends knew, then they would probably not hesitate to shut down Garden, or worse. And that inability never ceased to frustrate him.

Too many emotions were running through his mind.

"Hey, isn't that Squall over there?" Nida asked.

"Hm?" Quistis pretended to squint at him, examining him from head to toe. "SeeD uniform...permanent scowl...sulking alone...you're right, it _is_ Squall!" Smiling triumphantly, she rounded the fountain towards him. "Weren't you going to join us?" she asked accusingly. "Or did you just plan to brood all through the celebration?"

_I don't need this._ "What—"

"Ever!" Quistis and Nida echoed.

The sea of voices was pierced by the lively pace of what sounded like a Timber country jig, and the people around them began to pair off, staking out a makeshift dance floor not far away. Squall saw Selphie and Irvine off on the other side, playing a violin and guitar, respectively. Paige was struggling with a flute. He sighed. As barely tolerable as the music was, Squall recognized the piece as the one Selphie and the others had memorized for the concert at Fishermans Horizon. _Is there any way I can get away from these damned reminders?_ he thought angrily. _It's not like I have trouble thinking about her!_

"Perfect!" Quistis exclaimed. "Come on, Squall, let's dance."

"...What?"

"I _know_ you can dance," she pressed. "And shouldn't the Commander set an example for his troops?"

"Whatever."

After a moment, Quistis sighed, and her expression sobered. "Squall, I know you're worried, but there's nothing you can do to help her now. She's always been all right before, hasn't she?"

Squall didn't reply.

"Well, then, so long as you're here, you might as well enjoy yourself a little." Her smile returned, and she offered her hand. "Now come on! I promise I won't tap."

_Oh, what the hell,_ Squall thought. _She's right. Besides, Rinoa would hate me brooding like this._ "Fine," he said, nodding.

"Wonderful!" Without further preamble, Quistis took his hand and led him onto the dance floor. Though grudgingly, Squall did make a good-faith effort to forget his concerns. After a while, he found it was actually starting to work, and he almost managed a smile.

- - **- — — -** - -

When she had first seen the Timber forests, she had been entranced by their serene beauty and peacefulness, the abundance of life.

Now the explosions came from all directions, echoing across the forest, eruptions of magic occasionally punctuated with the sharp reports of minor explosives; the Galbadians were in such a frenzy, they must be tripping over their own mines.

Rinoa did her best not to think about any of that. She ignored the protests of the tiny band behind her, sprinting forward along the ill-marked trail. She had committed Watts' map to memory; so long as they stayed on the trail, they'd avoid the mines. They could get in, place the charge, and get out before the Galbadians knew what was happening. They shouldn't have been spotted already, but there's no time to worry about that now.

Just up ahead was the double tree that marked the crossroads in the path. Rinoa spun around to face the four people following her, all with slightly dazed expressions. Even after all their missions, they still seemed unprepared for this sort of activity.

"Kane, Soren, go right and make the Galbadians think we're headed for the main entrance, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the others. "Come on, let's go to the power plant." With that, she turned around and headed down the left path.

She ran in a sort of daze; over time, she had learned that she made a better fighter when she didn't think about what she was doing, forcing her mind to focus only on the task at hand. It hadn't been easy, but now, with the sounds of battle all around her, threatening to consume her, she didn't _want_ to think.

_Just carry out the plan,_ she told herself. _That's all that matters._

So she didn't know how long they had been running – though they must have been getting close – when she heard the _thump_ from behind. She spun, prepared for an intruding Galbadian soldier or mobile armament. Instead, Zone had collapsed against a tree trunk, clutching his stomach in agony.

"What's wrong?" she hissed, rushing over to him and crouching down on the side of the path.

"Ow...ow...ouch," Zone complained.

"Come on!" Rinoa exclaimed, having determined that he wasn't actually injured. "We don't have time for this!"

"Can't...move..." Zone curled himself tightly into a ball. "My...stomach..."

"He looks pretty bad, ma'am!" Watts interjected.

There was the sound of a Fire blast not far behind them. Gritting her teeth, Rinoa stood and glanced down the path. "Stay here, then," she ordered, kneeling back down to remove the bomb from Zone's pack. "But somebody has to finish this mission." And she took off running again.

A year earlier, when she had found herself in the middle of her first battle at Balamb Garden, she had learned early that what she had to do was keep her eyes straight ahead, and not look at what was going on around her. She'd soon reaffirmed the importance of not paying attention to anything that wasn't a direct threat to her; and there were usually more than enough of those to occupy her focus.

But then, she had been able to see her enemies. Now, the sounds of battle seemed to be coming from all around her, and she had no idea which she could ignore and which she had to pay attention to. And so, the sounds threatened to overwhelm her consciousness, force her to think about what she was doing. And she knew that could paralyze her into uselessness.

Just ahead, she saw a glint of metal — it had to be the generator. She was almost there. A couple hundred more meters, and she would be able to place the charge and get out. She was almost there.

It was almost surreal. She, with this one little bomb, was just moments away from destroying the entire power grid for the Galbadian barracks. The Forest Owls would finally have succeeded in crippling the forces occupying Timber. All her work, all her sacrifices, would have paid off. Maybe, she thought, she could finally allow herself to return to Garden, if just for a visit. Her hand crept unconsciously to the silver ring that hung around her neck, with a stylized lion's head and the word **GRIEVER** engraved along its band; and for an instant, she paused as a pang of guilt and loss ran through her.

But just for an instant.

As she approached the structure, her steps became more cautious; she began to dart from tree to tree, watching carefully for any sign of Galbadian activity. There was none. Not particularly interested in the reason why, Rinoa hurried up to the machine, slipping into the small maintenance shack, ready to face any defenders who might be there. Still, there were none. Quickly slipping between the rows of turbines, she set the charge under what she guessed to be the router nexus, keying the timer with a flick of her thumb as she wedged it into place. It offered a confirming beep, and she jumped to her feet and ran back to the door.

She had barely made it ten meters when she caught a flash of motion to her left. As her eyes darted to examine it, another apparition appeared to her right. Before she knew it, she was surrounded by red-uniformed Galbadian elite soldiers, guns at the ready.

"Freeze!" ordered one.

Rinoa threw out her hands, and a wave of lightning shot out, engulfing the soldiers and throwing many to the ground with an electric crackle. A second later, she heard a _click_ behind her, and barely had time to protect herself from a hail of bullets unleashed by an angry Galbadian officer. Then, a flick of her hands engulfed him in a Tornado spell, which threw him spinning into the trees.

A roar behind her alerted her to another Galbadian, who was charging with the probable intent of using his arm-gun as a club. Though she saw him, she was too late to do anything but twist her body so the brunt of the blow was taken on her shoulder. The force of the impact was enough to knock her to the ground despite the magic shield she threw up by reflex. However, the Galbadian's inertia kept him going for long enough that she managed to get back on her feet before he could follow through. A blast of blue-white lightning made sure he kept going until he hit the ground, and then that he didn't get up.

As she was turning back to the path to make a hasty exit, when a deafening roar erupted behind her, followed by a cacophony of sounds associated with tortured machinery as the charge went off, ripping apart the generator and creating a massive fireball. The blast's shock wave knocked her to the ground, and she felt the searing heat roll over her. As she tried to get up, she was aware that the Galbadians were closing in all around her.

"Squall!" she screamed, dazed, as she tried to get up and fight. "Help —" Before she could finish, a blow from behind sent her reeling into unconsciousness.


	3. Legacies

**June 4**

"Is everyone here?"

Squall straightened his uniform, trying to remember if he had taken it off at all in the three days since the ceremony at Trabia. He didn't think so.

At the faculty member's nod, Xu stepped up to the podium, subtly adjusting her deep red suit jacket. The Quad was completely filled with nearly two hundred children, Balamb Garden's largest single group of applicants yet. As Squall looked out over the crowd, he was glad not to be the faculty member in charge of making sure no one was missing.

"First of all," Xu began, "for all you new people, welcome to Balamb Garden. I'm Headmaster Xu, and I'll be overseeing the training of all SeeD candidates, as well as basic education and SeeD assignments for the graduates along with Commander Leonhart here." She motioned to Squall. "As you can imagine, all this keeps me rather busy, so you might not be seeing much of me." She motioned to the female SeeD who stood opposite the podium from Squall. "But if you need to speak with me, for whatever reason, just tell Instructor Kliener here.

"Now, if you're here, it's obvious you've chosen to begin training to become a SeeD. SeeDs are the pride of Garden, our best fighters and our brightest students. They represent us in missions all over the world. Now, becoming a SeeD is not easy — in last year's class of more than sixty students, only four were accepted. But don't let that intimidate you; none of you would have even made it this far if you didn't have the potential to succeed. It's up to each of you to discover that potential.

"Now, I'll explain a little about the meaning of Garden. We're not just a group of mercenaries for hire. Garden was founded thirteen years ago by Cid and Edea Kramer, as a place for children without homes to gain the knowledge and skills they needed to function in the world. SeeD provides Garden with the funding it needs to continue operating." She paused, looking down at her notes. "Of course, our most important mission is by now well-known: Defeat the Sorceress. In a sense, that destiny has already been fulfilled, but we must always be vigilant, watching for the rise of anyone who would do harm to the people of this world and..." She trailed off, looking down at her notes. After the briefest of moments, she shook her head. "We can't ever forget that SeeD's purpose is to protect the future, from anyone who would try to do it harm."

She smiled, somewhat weakly. "Well, I think you've heard enough from me. Remember, all we ask is that you do your best. Good luck."

The faculty member stepped up. "Listen carefully for your room assignments. Adeki and Zanu will be in Room A14. Alten and Wendel, Room A16. Aru and Wells, Room A17. Bratton and Veldt, Room A20..."

As he continued down his list, the three SeeDs made their exit. "Who would have thought there would be so _many?_" wondered the blond-haired girl on Xu's left. "Last year, we were wondering if we would even have enough to keep the Garden open."

Xu nodded. "Those were a tough couple of months for the students, but it seems the publicity has made us very popular with the outsiders."

"That'll cause problems," Squall said. "A lot of them might not be dedicated to make it as SeeDs, and just be here for the thrill. They might bring others down."

"I'll be looking out for anyone starting to slip," the other SeeD said.

Xu nodded. "Thanks, Lauren. Squall, what was that message that came in just before the ceremony?"

Squall transferred the clipboard in his left hand to a position where he could read the text of the dispatch. He had the clipboard with him so constantly now that he could often forget he was carrying it. "The Galbadians want two more teams to deal with rebel activity in Dollet," he said.

Xu sighed. "They've been fighting those rebels for more than a year now. Even Timber didn't resist this hard."

"How many teams will this make now?" Lauren asked.

"Eight," replied Squall.

"Eight! That's more than half our SeeD force!"

Xu nodded. "And of course if we say no, they take it out of our funding."

"We can't just let it continue like this," Squall said. "Before we know it, all of SeeD will be working for Galbadia."

"Garden can't survive without financial support, Squall," Xu reminded him. "Galbadia is our primary source of income, and without them, we won't have enough funds to keep Garden open. Let me see the request." Squall handed it to her, and she scanned over the document. "Everything seems to be in order. And at 300,000 gil per SeeD, I don't see how we can pass this up. Which teams should we send?"

"Dannic has been itching for an assignment again," Lauren said.

"Then we'd better send Linnis along too," Squall said.

"Yeah," Lauren agreed. "If Dannic gets sent out again before she does, she'll go crazy."

"All right then. I'll notify the Galbadians and arrange for delivery."

"I'll update the assignment list." Rather than going to the Garden office, however, Squall headed off toward the dorms. It didn't matter if the paperwork got done now or a week from tomorrow; Squall had yet to find someone who actually checked the assignment list.

It always put him in one of his brooding moods when he had to think about Galbadia. Rinoa would probably tell him to stop worrying so much about things he couldn't change, but then, he hadn't seen Rinoa in...he couldn't remember how long. She was the problem. There was always the possibility that the Galbadians would hire SeeD to put down the Forest Owls, and the unwritten rule that SeeDs didn't work against former employers would probably not be enough to convince Xu to refuse. He could be sending SeeDs to fight against Rinoa, when all he wanted was to be fighting beside her. It was the curse of the uniform that he could never seem to take off, no matter how badly he wished simply to be someplace else.

_Rinoa..._ he thought, almost calling out with his thoughts. She was a Sorceress, wasn't she? Maybe she could hear him. _I...want to hear your voice. I want to know that you're all right._

_I need you._

Suddenly, a chill ran through him, as if he had just been thrust into a Trabia snow plain. He shuddered, stumbling against the rail. The feeling only lasted a moment, and was gone just as quickly as it had come, and with as little reason. Shaking his head, Squall righted himself and continued walking, trying to ignore the fact that his forehead was throbbing again.

"Hey, Irvine! How'd the test go?"

Irvine placed his cowboy hat on his head as he regarded the girl who had ambushed him outside the classroom. "Hey, Sefie. I passed with flying colors, of course. Man, it's a total bummer, though. I mean, I'm a SeeD now, and they're still making me take all these classes."

"Hey, YOU'RE the one who failed that class on magic theory, remember?"

Irvine shrugged. "Dumb class anyway. Who cares where a GF comes from, so long as you know how to junction it? Like, Aki wouldn't even let me wear my hat in there? Man, he was all over my style, you know?"

Selphie giggled. "Well, you DO look kind of silly wearing that hat with your uniform."

Irvine pointed a warning finger at her. "Hey, watch it. Before long, you're going to be saluting this hat, okay?"

"Yeah, right! I'm in 'A' rank, remember?"

Irvine smiled. "Well, you know, I was talking to Xu, and she said that, you know, since I was so nice about having to go through a whole year of classes after saving the universe and all, they'd be creating a new, higher rank just for me. We're gonna call it 'S' rank, and I'll be the boss of everyone in this Garden!"

Selphie blinked. "Y...yeah right!"

"And he gets a ceremonial wand and a golden Chocobo to ride around, too," added Nida's voice. Irvine looked up to see him and Quistis, both in casual clothes, leaning against the wall by the corner.

"You know, I knew ever since Irvine's field exam that he was going to go far," Quistis said. "I've never seen anyone try to _beat_ an Ochu to death with a shotgun before."

"Hey, it drank all my Ultima spells, okay?" Irvine said defensively. "I was mad! What was an Ochu doing in Fishermans Horizon, anyway?"

"How you got a SeeD rank 10 out of that, I'll never know," Nida said. "Besides, didn't the FH people want it kept alive and transplanted to —"

"HEY!" Irvine exclaimed. "Saved the universe! Killed Ultimecia! Can I get a little credit here?"

"Heey, guys, I just remembered!" Selphie piped up. "The Balamb Actors Guild is having a play this weekend! It's like, 'The Sands of Kashkabald' or something, and it sounds really cool! You guys wanna come?"

Nida raised his eyebrows. "Guys in Blitz suits zapping each other with stage magic? Sure, why not?"

Quistis nodded. "Sounds like fun. I'll be there. What about you, Irvine?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sounds cool."

"Great!" Selphie bounced off toward the elevator. "I'm gonna find the others! I bet Squall's just going to LOVE it!"

There was the typical silent pause that generally followed one of Selphie's exits.

"So..." Nida began. "Did you see all the new SeeD candidates this year?"

Quistis nodded. "Incredible, isn't it? I don't think I've ever seen that many people in one place in this Garden."

"Are you kidding?" Irvine scoffed. "Back in Galbadia, that was a regular day in the cafeteria."

"Your headmaster gave you introductory speeches in the cafeteria?" Nida asked.

"What? No, I meant —" Irvine shook his head. "Look, gimme a break, okay? What's with you guys today?"

They began walking towards the 2F balcony. Though it provided a spectacular view of the countryside, it was generally sealed due to the fact that beneath it was a very long fall, and the Garden still did not have enough faculty to keep a very close watch on the junior classmen. Quistis, however, knew Squall and Xu's access code.

"Hey, we've barely seen you since the party in Trabia," Nida said.

"And then, you were following Selphie around like a chicobo," Quistis added, "so we're seriously behind on our making-fun-of-Irvine schedule."

Irvine rolled his eyes. Quistis keyed in the access code that unlocked the door. Nida stepped through the doorway. Irvine and Quistis followed him.

The Garden was at rest, slightly nearer the Rinaul coast than its original location, which was visible off to the right of the balcony. Shoots of grass were beginning to take hold in the immense crater left by the Galbadian missiles, but it would still be some time before it once again blended into the countryside.

"So has Xu found a new Garden Master yet?" Nida asked after a time.

Quistis shook her head. "She's still looking. What with Galbadia and all, I guess working for Garden isn't exactly anyone's first choice of profession."

"Yeah, but I'd hate to be in Xu's place," Irvine said. "I mean, being Headmaster must be tough enough, but handling all the money books too has gotta be bad."

Nida nodded. "I wonder how Cid always managed to make it look so easy."

"I asked him about that once," Quistis said. "He told me, 'Quistis, after a time, anyone can learn how to fake it.'" She smiled, shaking her head.

For another moment, the three were silent as they leaned out against the rail. The five-minute chime rang out, summoning the new students to their classrooms.

"You know," Irvine said at length, "it was only, like, a few months ago, but whenever I try to think about Cid or Matron, it's like I'm remembering back to the orphanage." He shook his head. "Maybe it's the GF."

"I'm the same way," Quistis admitted. "When I think about them, it's almost like I'm remembering a dream." She sighed. "Or maybe this is the dream."

"Sometimes, I think it has to be," Nida said. "I mean, Cid was a part of this Garden for as long as I can remember — my first memory is of him catching me trying to open the door to get up here."

"It's just not fair," Irvine declared. "After all those years, I finally get to see Matron again, and then she's gone. And now, like, there were all these things I wanted to say to her, but I could never quite get around to it. I kept thinking, you know, next time."

Quistis nodded. "I was the same way."

"We all were," Nida agreed. "Well, except me. ...And all those other people who were never at the orphanage."

They looked out over the countryside again, in silence. A flock of birds, which had been congregating atop the dome of the infirmary suddenly took flight, leaving behind a lone creature, from its looks not much older than a chick, who flapped vigorously in an attempt to follow. However, it could not manage to take to the air.

"'Time...'" Quistis mused. "'It will not wait... No matter how hard you hold on...it escapes you...'"

"Huh?" Nida asked.

"It's just something that's been bouncing around my head ever since the fight with Ultimecia," she said. "It's just horrible, how we can never seem to see how important something, or someone is, until they're gone."

"And then we spend so much time brooding over everything we've lost, that we don't see what we still have," Nida added. "Until it's too late for that, too."

Quistis looked at him.

"I mean, it's been months since the accident," he went on, "but we still can't even really accept that they're gone. I mean, whenever we get called into a meeting with Xu, I always expect Cid to be standing there right beside her."

Quistis nodded. "Me, too. And that's really not fair to Xu; she has a hard enough job as it is, what with Galbadia and all."

"I think it's just because, you know, everything's happening so fast," Irvine said. I mean, a year ago, I was flunking out of Galbadia Garden, and all I knew about you guys was that we were all at the same orphanage together." He paused. "Well, except you, Nida."

Nida made a face.

"A lot has changed," Quistis agreed.

"Yeah." Irvine removed his hat, looking at it reflectively. "I sometimes wonder when we were better off."

"Does it matter?" Nida asked. "I mean, when's the last time anything good came from living in the past?"

Again, the three lapsed into silence, as they looked out over the countryside. As they watched, a wall of clouds approaching from the west pushed their way in front of the sun, and a shadow fell over the plains.


	4. Sportsmanship

"...And you have an appearance before Parliament. According to the speech Chairman Chan wrote for you, you're supposed to call for the reopening of the Odine facility, so we can continue the research into the Lunar Cries."

Laguna nodded. "Yeah, yeah...but I had a better idea!"

Kiros and Ward groaned, near in unison. Laguna jumped up from behind his desk, for some reason causing the floor to become translucent through to the cityscape below, an effect which invariably made him dizzy. Distracted by the sensation of the floor disappearing out from under him, Laguna lost his balance and collapsed unceremoniously on the floor. "Aah!" he exclaimed, as he struggled back to his feet. "Man, I really need to get this thing fixed."

"...," Ward said.

"Hey!" Having regained his footing, Laguna picked up a folder that had been lying on his desk. "Anyway, I thought that I could read this speech I wrote last night, instead. It's about how we should start being more active in foreign affairs, and —"

"Let me guess," Kiros interrupted. "You want them to start funding Garden."

"Hey, did you see these figures?" Laguna asked. "Like, 80 percent of their funding now is coming from Galbadia! The Galbadians tried to invade Esthar last year! Couldn't we say, like, we've got national security concerns or something?"

"The new president of Galbadia has pledged not to interfere with our internal business," Kiros said, "as long as we stay out of theirs. This could look like we're trying to buy Garden out from under them, maybe as a preamble to invasion."

"Hey!" Laguna exclaimed. "Whose side are you on?"

"This is what Chan will say," Kiros replied. "The Parliament already voted down your initiative to end the policy of isolation; there's no way they'll agree to start sending tax money to an organization that doesn't even have a base in Esthar."

"I'm getting to that!" Laguna declared. "See, in exchange for our funding, another Garden will be constructed in Esthar!"

"So we'd be paying them to use our land for a base of operations?" Kiros asked.

Laguna scratched his head. "Well...yeah."

"...," Ward declared.

"Yeah," Kiros agreed. "They'll never go for it. Plus, if you don't read the speech Chan wrote for you, he really won't be happy."

"But it doesn't even make any sense!" Laguna complained. "Why is the chairman of Parliament writing my proposals for me? Aren't I the president?"

Kiros and Ward looked at each other. "Do you think we should tell him?" Kiros asked, as if he hadn't done so dozens of times before.

"..." Ward nodded.

"Guys..." Laguna said, somewhat exasperatedly.

"Laguna," Kiros began slowly, in the tone he might use with a nescient child, "You're a figurehead. Parliament only keeps you around because they made you into this big hero of the revolution; it keeps people from thinking too hard about how the Parliament is mostly the same people who were making the laws under Adel. You have no power. Acting like you do is just going to get you into trouble."

"Oh, come on!" Laguna exclaimed. "I'm the president of Esthar! The hero of the revolution! If I make an appeal to the people, I'm sure they'll back me instead of a bunch of old geezers in Parliament!"

"Laguna, the people believe what Parliament tells them," Kiros said. "It's always been that way. If you force them to take sides, you can't expect them all to back you. Besides, the army would take Chan's side. It'd be disaster."

"Arghh..." Laguna sat back down behind his desk. "I hate this, you know? I mean, I come in here every day, and the first thing I see is this memo from Chan telling me exactly what I'm supposed to do. I really want, you know, just once, to get out of this damn office and really _do_ something for the people out there. Because, I mean, otherwise, what the heck am I doing here?"

"...," Ward said.

"Laguna, we understand how you feel," Kiros agreed, "But there's nothing you can do. It's not just Parliament; all the people want is a government that takes care of business and stays out of their way. They don't want to think about politics or anything like that. If you try to stir something up, Parliament will say that you're trying to manufacture a problem so you'll look like the hero, and the people will buy it, because they don't want to have to think about it."

"...," Ward agreed.

Laguna shook his head, sighing. "Kind of makes you wish for the good old days, huh? Man, what I'd give to be back out there, traveling all over the world, visiting exotic places, meeting new people..." He trailed off, gazing down through the floor at the city laid out beneath him.

"Always out of money, not knowing if we'd have a roof over our heads, wanted by the law in four countries..." Kiros added, hinting sarcasm.

"...," Ward finished.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Laguna agreed. "The sky is always greener from the other guy's yard."

"?" Kiros said.

"?" Ward added.

"Oh, whatever." Laguna picked up the speech, honestly trying to read it. "'Distinguished representatives and fellow citizens of Esthar; it is in the interest of a matter of notable urgency and clear national concern that I...'" He dropped the paper back onto his desk. "Really, guys, don't you at least miss how we could really make a difference? Back then, it was like our lives counted for something. Now, I feel like we're back up in Trabia, making that stupid movie all over again. Except this time it's been filming for eighteen years."

Kiros and Ward exchanged a look. "Laguna,..." Kiros began, but he trailed off with a sigh.

"There has _got_ to be a way," Laguna declared, standing again. Shaking his head, he made for the exit. "I've just gotta think, and it'll come to me."

The doors hissed open to admit his passing, and he barely looked as he headed out into the hall. Behind him, Kiros looked to Ward.

"I'd try harder," he said, "but I'm actually hoping he'll figure something out."

"...," Ward agreed.

It was mid-afternoon on a finals week, so few people populated the stands for the off-season hockey tournament. Garden was playing, of course, and a small group of loyal fans had taken over their customary section, cheering with just as much enthusiasm as if the stands were filled. Garden's victim today was the Lanker State team, and the traditional rivalry between the two schools was enough to bring a fair number of blue-and-green clad spectators to the opposite side of the stands. Even so, Lanker was playing with three of its best players out on injury, and their best shooter had been removed for a penalty; with Garden up by three at the half, the game was all but over.

"Is it my imagination, or is Darven playing a little sluggishly out there?" Headmaster Martine, watching from one of the top rows, frowned at the gold-uniformed student playing forward.

Palmer, the head of the Garden faculty, frowned, leaning forward in the seat beside him. "It's not like him to get tired," she said. "He's been leading all this season."

"Most likely he simply knows that Garden will win no matter what he does, and has given up on trying," Martine said. "The coach should have a talk with him about that."

"Headmaster, I hate to take your attention away from your game, but I was ordered here with rather important business." Occupying the seat on Martine's other side, Galbadian General Tolmar nonetheless spared a moment to observe the student's movements as well. "Still, I think you're right. It would never be stood for on the Army team."

"I don't have any authority over Headmasters Xu or Logan," Martine said. "The decision was an internal affair for Trabia."

"The President isn't quite convinced of that," Tolmar said. "Expanding T-Garden's curriculum to include a SeeD force is economically ridiculous. The costs of supporting a facility as remote as Trabia are all but prohibitive for any large-scale operation, yet both the other masters seem intent on expanding. I don't need to tell you how suspicious that looks."

A roar went up from the Lanker side as one of their players broke through Garden's defense to score an unlikely shot. Martine shook his head. "Typical end-of-season laziness. All of a sudden, they're too good for their training." To Tolmar he added, "I don't suppose I need to tell you that Xu was particularly motivated on the Trabia matter."

Expressionless, Tolmar nodded. "I'm fully aware that my government's funding contract with Garden places the Trabia facility outside our influence, but this might be a good time to remind Headmaster Xu that _her_ Garden is not. And that the future status of our funding to Garden is contingent to her good will."

"Garden policy dictates that no two Gardens may undertake missions with conflicting interests," Palmer pointed out. "If your government is concerned that Trabia might be used to undermine Galbadia, you can assure them, that isn't permitted."

"I'm familiar with your policy," Tolmar said, "and that's not entirely true. I know that the Gardens can't pursue missions which directly conflict with each other, but you've no rule barring one SeeD team to conduct one mission to help a certain party, while another team performs a completely different mission which will nonetheless harm that same party. Lord Naraka wishes it known that, if such a situation were to arise and cause harm to Galbadia, he would consider it a serious breach of good faith."

"I'm sure Headmaster Xu is aware of the contract stipulations," Martine said. "But I will inform her of your president's concerns."

Tolmar nodded. "That's all I can ask. Also, the issue of advanced training for our soldiers in para-magic has come up again. Galbadia simply doesn't have enough trained instructors in the field, so I was sent to request that G-Garden take on a few dozen of our elite soldiers at a time for instruction. Since you have another facility now to handle SeeD candidates, it was thought you might be able to spare the room. You'd be compensated, of course."

Martine and Palmer looked at each other. Just then, one of Garden's players slammed head-on into the Lanker player who had control of the puck. The Lanker student fell hard, but the Garden player recovered, gained control of the puck, and went on to score.

"Your players seem to have regained their dedication," Tolmar observed.

"Damn nasty trick, though," Martine said, "especially against a losing team. ...In any case, we'll have to compose a contract outlining the details, but I think it should be manageable."

"Yes," Palmer agreed, with only a bit of hesitation. "Most of our higher-level students choose to join the Galbadian Army in any case; forming a class shouldn't be difficult."

Down on the field, the Lanker student was being removed by a medic. The referee signaled that the move was legal and the point was good, and the teams returned to their sides to continue the game.


	5. Absent Choice

**June 5**

It was already late morning by the time Quistis arrived in the cafeteria for breakfast. Selphie had dragged her into town to meet the band she wanted to play at this year's Garden Festival. It had been well past curfew when they got back, and they had been forced to swim in through the moat to avoid capture.

Receiving her breakfast, she looked around for a place to sit; the cafeteria was filled with new students in new uniforms, and Quistis felt a little out of place in her casual clothes. Spotting a familiar face at a table by the window, she navigated her way over with her tray. "Hi, Xu!" she said. "Mind if I join you?"

Xu looked up from a clipboard containing some kind of official document. "Quistis!" She smiled. "Of course not. Have a seat."

Quistis obliged. "Has Selphie talked to you about the Garden Festival yet?"

"I think so," Xu replied. "She wants to rent a barge and have it at sea, right?"

"Right. And how she wants the Balamb Actors Guild to perform _Black Vendetta_ opposite the band."

Xu blinked. "_Black Vendetta?_"

Quistis nodded. "Apparently, they've been working on this comical adaptation. There's this Shumi who they've got to play Hyne."

"Now there's something I have to see!" Xu said, laughing.

"You know," Quistis mused, "it's really funny how neither of us doubts for a moment that she could do it, too."

Xu laughed again, taking a sip of her coffee. When she spoke next, her tone had become slightly more somber. "Quistis, do you remember about a year ago, when you lost your instructor's license?"

"Yes?"

"I've done a lot of thinking...and I think I've decided that, in truth, we _really_ did you a favor."

Quistis smiled. "I won't argue with that. Once I got used to being just another SeeD, I found out I actually _enjoyed_ being in Garden." She took a bite of toast. "So how's the Headmaster life treating you, by the way?"

Xu gave her a look. "It's horrible. I got maybe four hours of sleep last night, because I had to handle some conflict between one of our long-term SeeD deployments and the Galbadian police. Then this morning, this comes in just as I'm sitting down for breakfast." She tapped the clipboard, sighing. "You have no idea how lucky you are to lack leadership qualities."

"What is that, anyway?" Quistis asked.

"Well, you're not going to like it, either." Xu handed her the clipboard. "It's a SeeD request. For you."

Quistis read the request. "'Republic of Galbadia...requests the services of SeeDs Zell Dincht, Irvine Kinneas, Squall Leonhart, Selphie Tilmitt, Quistis Trepe, three others to be decided by Garden, and "Nida"...transport provided to classified location...long-term mission, exact duration unknown.' Is this a joke?"

"Read the payment offer."

Quistis scanned down to the bottom of the page. "...Wow."

"Keep reading."

At the very bottom of the form was written a few lines of text in small print. "'This request falls under Article 16, Section 4 of the General Employment Agreement between Balamb Garden and the Galbadian Republic,'" she read. "'Appropriate payment is included. This request is not open to negotiation. Approval or denial of request is required within 72 hours of reception.'"

"Article 16:4 states that matters of extreme urgency to either Garden or Galbadia must receive full cooperation, or the entire agreement will be nullified. Basically, we have to approve this request, or we lose all our funding from Galbadia."

Quistis raised her eyebrows. "So you're actually going to send us off on a mission for Galbadia, when you don't even know where we'll be going or how long it'll take?"

"I don't have a choice, Quistis," Xu said. "Without Galbadia's funding, we won't have enough money to keep the Garden open. That's why we had to enter into the agreement in the first place."

"I know; there isn't any other way." Quistis sighed, handing Xu back the clipboard. "But if we give them this, what are they going to ask for next time?"

Xu shook her head, looking down at her coffee. "Quistis, I don't even know what they're asking for _this_ time."

"It's just so unfair. Just a year ago, it was governments like Galbadia who were the enemy. Now, we're doing their dirty work for them. It just seems like there has to be some other way."

"Believe me, Quistis, if I found another way, I would jump at it. But I'm still looking."

The two passed into silence, with Quistis turning her attention to her breakfast and Xu staring at the clipboard. They remained that way for some time.

"Forget it."

Selphie folded her arms. "C'mon, Nida; I _saw_ you in the one-act last year!"

"That was humiliating. I almost tripped over my tail."

The other SeeD turned to leave the library, but Selphie headed him off. "But you covered it really well! I could really believe you were trying to crush the princess!"

"It's not going to happen."

"Come on! You're only in one scene! After playing the Evil Dragon King, it should be easy!"

"I can't sing."

"You don't have to! Only the leads sing!"

Nida sighed. "Why are you putting an opera in the Garden Festival, anyway? I thought you had the Balamb Actors Guild in here to perform something."

"I do! We're only going to act out the battle scene between Prince Ralse and Draco! You'll have maybe three lines; the rest is just standing there looking mean!"

"Ask Squall."

"I want Squall to play Prince Ralse!"

"Look." Nida sighed. "Every time I have to act, or speak in public, or anything like that, I embarrass myself. Remember when I had to make that speech right after becoming a SeeD?"

Selphie giggled.

"Plus, I had my heart broken by someone in the Dollet Theater Troupe, and I promised myself I'd never act again."

"That's just an excuse! And I bet it never really happened!"

"I'm not doing it."

"Come _on!_" Selphie pleaded. "You're always talking about how no one ever notices you; this is the perfect way for them to see what a great guy you are!"

"Pass."

Before Selphie could respond, Paige came running up. "Guys, come on!" she said, motioning them to come with her. "There's something on the news you need to see!"

Nida didn't need much excuse to abandon the conversation, and though Selphie was more reluctant, both followed. Paige showed them behind the desk to a monitor which was set to the Online Dollet Times, on which a video release was playing.

"_By admitting that the power interruption three days ago was a result of a terrorist attack,"_ an announcer was saying, _"Galbadia has departed from its claim that the situation in Timber is firmly under control, and the so-called 'resistance factions' have all but disappeared. The Galbadian government, however, has indicated its belief that the group responsible — several leaders of which have been taken into custody both during and after the attack — is receiving support from a source outside Timber, with their own reasons for creating instability in the region."_

The three looked at each other. "This is huge!" Paige said. "I mean, the Galbadians will _never_ admit that there's anything wrong in Timber, and now someone actually blew up a power station! What do you think it means?"

"They were talking about support from outside Timber," said Nida, frowning. "So they'll probably try to blame it on us."

"Heey," said Selphie. "I wonder if Rinoa's still in Timber with the Forest Owls?"

"Probably," said Nida.

"I wouldn't want to be around Squall when he hears about this," observed Paige.


	6. Reunion

The wind whistled sharply through the peaks of the mountains, buffeting against Squall as he made his way up the poorly marked path. He had come to a flat, round plateau in the rock face, amid the peaks of the range of mountains which rimmed the northeastern side of Balamb. Above him, the sky was darkened by night with clouds obscuring the stars; and below, the Garden was small in the distance behind him.

Even his SeeD training failed for an instant to detect the figure already standing on the far side of the plateau. He stood perfectly still, the grey of his coat melding into the rock and shadows, an effect which accented the striking blond hair and the metallic glint of the drawn blade which he held at rest at his side. Squall noticed that he was leaning ever so slightly toward his left leg.

For a moment, the two simply stared at each other. A gust of wind sent the grey trenchcoat flapping and rustled Squall's hair. He had a memory of a similar meeting that had taken place between them, more than a year ago now, under very different circumstances.

Finally, the other form drew up the blade, resting it on his shoulder while always keeping his eyes fixed on Squall. "What took you so long?" he asked.

"I had business to finish," Squall replied neutrally. His hand rested on the hilt of his own gunblade. "I came as soon as I could."

"Yeah?" He began to move, walking slowly around the edge of the clearing. Squall began to circle, keeping exactly opposite of him. "How's Garden treating you, Mr. Leader? Bored yet?"

"That's none of your business." Squall's voice was cold, toneless.

"Just trying to be friendly. I guess that's the problem with dreams, huh? They never seem to work out quite right in reality."

"Cut it out, Seifer. You called me, so now I'm here." Squall stopped, absently fingering his gunblade. "What happened in Timber?"

"It was a trap," Seifer replied. "She ran straight into it. There must have been fifty soldiers there, at the least; all special forces. I took out as many as I could get to, but they got her in a transport and drove off right away. She's alive, but I don't know where they took her."

Squall felt dizzy. A gust of wind hit him, and he stumbled, shifting his stance to keep his balance. His hand closed around the hilt of his gunblade, and he unhooked it from his belt. "You promised you'd keep her safe."

"Blame me if you want," Seifer said harshly. "If it weren't for me, she'd be dead a long time ago." His own gunblade returned to his side, though his grip remained firm. "Fujin, Raijin and I barely got out of there alive ourselves; _we tried._ Where were you?"

Squall ran at him, swinging his gunblade with all his might. Seifer parried, jumping back and assuming a fighting stance as Squall recovered for another move. "Don't you _dare_ suggest I never cared!" Squall snapped.

"Why the hell not?" shot back Seifer. "If you cared about her as much as you say you do, _you'd_ have been in Timber protecting her, instead of back in Garden playing cards with your orphanage gang!"

Squall charged again, hacking at Seifer without any pretense at technique; the blows were parried with ease. "I couldn't get away!" he shouted. "That's why I wanted you to go — to make sure nothing happened. And now you failed, and they've got her, you bastard!"

An unexpected reposte from Seifer sent him rolling on the ground. "I was shot three times trying to keep her out of trouble!" he shouted back as Squall got back to his feet. "I near _died_ in that forest! You think losing her didn't mean anything to _me?_ Believe it or not, Mr. Leader, I did not spend the last year looking after her as a favor to you!"

Now Seifer came for Squall, with a spinning slash which Squall could only barely deflect. Squall responded with a jab which forced him back onto the defensive, and thereafter the two blades seemed caged, unable to travel more than a foot in any direction without being stopped by the other. Tears were rolling down Squall's face as he strained to through all the force in his body into the blade; and he was vaguely aware that Seifer's expression was equally pained.

"If she really mattered to you," screamed Seifer over the flurry of blades, "You should have been there!"

"You should have protected her!" Squall shouted back. "You're making excuses, and the Galbadians have Rinoa!"

"I _tried,_ dammit!" Seifer's attacks were becoming even more ferocious. "Where —" _jab —_ "Were —" _slash —_ "_YOU?_"

He swung his blade with a force that could easily have cut Squall in two. As the two blades met, Seifer's went off, and a bullet exploded off into the sky. Both weapons flew out of the combatants hands, clattering to a rest several feet away.

Neither Squall nor Seifer moved to retrieve them; the two collapsed to the ground in unison, panting heavily. For a long moment, they simply sat there, wordless, gasping for breath as the adrenaline left their system. Somewhere over the sea came a deep _boom_ of thunder.

"You know," Seifer began again at length, staring down at his boots. "Right as they got her...she was calling for you."

Squall was silent.

"I can tell when she's thinking about you," Seifer went on, bringing his hand to his coat, grasping an imaginary necklace. "Your ring's still there, and there wasn't a day when she wouldn't stop what she was doing and just stand there for a second." He shook his head. "I used to ask myself why I spend all my time watchin' after her like this, and then I remember." He paused for a moment. "My dream was a joke, and my life was ruined, and there was nowhere I could go. She was all I had left, even if she didn't even know I was there." He looked up at Squall, but the anger was gone. "So how's Garden treating you?"

"There isn't a day that goes by," said Squall, "when I don't wish I could be in Timber fighting by her side, or that she was here with me. But even if I left Garden, way too many people know who I am. I'd do the resistence more harm than good, and bring the Galbadians down on them faster."

_At least,_ he thought, _that's what I tell myself. But maybe I was just...too scared to leave Garden._ "But still..." He brought a gloved hand to his forehead. "I'd give anything to see her again."

They were in silence for a moment longer; then Seifer stood. "I came here to tell you what happened," he said. "But I'm gonna find her. I don't care if it takes me the rest of my life; I don't have much else to live for anyhow."

Squall nodded, wishing nothing more than to go himself. But he knew it was impossible. "...Good luck," he said dully.

Seifer walked over and picked up his gunblade, re-fastening it to his belt. Without another word, he started back towards the path that led out of the mountains.

"Seifer —"

Seifer stopped. Squall had stood, and was looking at his back. "Thank you," he said, almost croaking.

The words brought Seifer to glance back over his shoulder, fixing Squall with a cold glare. "Don't _ever_ think I'm doing this for you," he said, then resumed his walk down the path.


	7. Morning

**June 6**

Light was streaming into the library from the high windows facing east, bathing the students underneath in a warm, bright glow. It was late in the breakfast hour, and many students were taking the opportunity for some last-minute study before the beginning of the few classes still in session during the summer. A quiet murmur of hushed gossip filled the air.

Paige was placing returned books back on the shelves; although her status as a SeeD and graduate now prevented her from being on the Library Committee, she still liked to help out whenever she could. Besides the fact that she still had friends who worked in the library, she simply liked the quiet atmosphere of this part of the Garden.

"Hey! How's it goin'?"

She started, before recognizing the voice. "Don't sneak up on people like that!" she said scoldingly to the boy who had appeared beside her.

Zell shrugged. "Hey, y'know, if you were paying attention, I wouldn't be able to scare you like that."

Smiling, she batted him with a book. "What are you doing here, Zell? I'm working."

"Hey, you don't even work here anymore, remember? 'Sides, I was just wondering if you've got the latest _Weapons Monthly_ yet."

Paige frowned. "You've got a subscription."

"Yeah; well, that one hasn't come yet this morning, and I want something to read on the trip. So?" He looked at her expectantly.

She folded her arms. "Zell, you know where the magazines are."

"C'mon, show me. Isn't it your job to help out people who need to find stuff?"

Shaking her head, she led him over to the magazine rack.

"Yeah!" Zell intoned, spotting the July edition still resting on the rack.

"Keep it down!" Paige cautioned. "And you can't check those out, you know."

"Don't worry; I've got a plan." Zell patted his pocket, and the soft jingle of gil could be heard. "Where'd you guys move the copy machine?"

"Zell!"

"What?"

Paige sighed, giving up on pressing the point. "...So you saw the mission schedule on the Directory?" she asked.

Zell nodded. "You bet." He absently began flipping through the magazine before glancing up at her. "Hey, so this'll be your first mission, huh? How are you feeling about that?"

She smiled. "I don't know. A little nervous, I guess. I'm still kind of surprised that I actually passed the SeeD exam."

"Hey, I gotta ask." Zell closed the magazine for a second. "You never acted like you really wanted to be a SeeD. Why'd you even bother to take the exam? You could've just graduated and got a job at the library full-time or something."

Paige shrugged. "I've been asking myself that too. And I really think it's your fault, Zell."

"Wha?" Zell blinked.

"Well, you were always going off and leaving me back here at Garden wondering if you were okay," she said, glancing around to be sure no one was listening in. "I thought if I was a SeeD and could go out and fight too, I wouldn't be so worried. Besides, I thought maybe we might get assigned together sometimes."

Zell laughed. "And hey, looks like we _are_ gettin' sent out together! Well, I sure don't mind the company."

Paige smiled as Zell went back to flipping through the magazine. "I really am glad you'll be out there with me," she said. "I keep getting scared that I won't be able to handle myself when the time comes."

"Don't worry about that," Zell said confidently. "They screen you for that sort of thing in the SeeD exam, you know. Oh, hey; check this out!" He held up the magazine, displaying a picture of a fighting glove with some sort of metal box attached to the back of the hand. "This thing's called a Motor Drive; they say it's got a machine that'll give it more power when you swing. I feel like getting one just to see what that's like!"

Paige went back to stacking the books, shaking her head but unable to contain a smile.

"...and I've even got this jazz band from Dollet to come over to play! Turns out that Michel's dad knows the owner of a night club where they play a lot, so he asked them if they'd want to play at the Garden Festival, and they said yes!" Selphie was literally bouncing with excitement. "They're gonna be coming over in July so we can practice! Oh, I just _know_ this is gonna be the best festival ever!"

Quistis couldn't help but smile at her friend's enthusiasm. "You really are good at this, Selphie. Especially with the job you did last year; I'm still amazed you even managed to _have_ a Festival after all that happened."

The two of them were seated in the shade of one of the larger trees in the Quad, Selphie with her near-ubiquitous clipboard in hand. Here was where she liked to do most of her planning for the Garden Festival, and midmorning seemed to be her favorite time of day to devote to the endeavor.

"Well, there just _had_ to be a Festival!" Selphie said. "Especially after bad things happen, people need something they can smile about!" Demonstrating her amazing ability to switch gears almost in midsentence, she went back to flipping through the clipboard once more. "...I still need some more extras for the one-act, though. The Balamb Actors' Guild is gonna be doing _Black Vendetta_, and I wanna get people from Garden to do this one! You remember how much of a hit it was last year!"

"Selphie, I'm _still_ trying to live that down," Quistis protested. "It was awful. Nida practically smothered me with that dragon costume."

"But the whole Garden _loved_ it!" Selphie insisted. "Oh, that reminds me. I still need to ask Squall if he'll play Prince Ralse. Don't you think he'd be just _perfect_ for the role?"

Quistis didn't, but she was laughing too hard to say so. "Well, good luck getting him to agree," she managed eventually.

"I haven't even _seen_ him lately, though," Selphie mused. "Garden business must be keeping him really busy."

"Well, we're all getting called up for a mission today," Quistis observed. "I'm sure you'll have some chance to ask him then."

"Yeah!" Selphie agreed. Then her attention was caught by a passing SeeD, and she jumped up from the circular bench. "Hey! Lauren, did you get my note about maybe getting some of the junior classmen to be extras in _Black Vendetta_ for the Garden Festival?"

Quistis laughed again as she rose from the bench to follow her enthusiastic friend's latest adventure.

"...I understand we have contractual obligations here," Xu said, "but there must be certain disclosure requirements that Galbadia must observe. This request tells me absolutely nothing beyond, 'Get some SeeDs together, here's what we'll pay.'"

Frowning at her from the other side of the vidscreen, Martine sighed. "I'm afraid that meets the minimum disclosure requirements that were set out in your extended contract with Galbadia," he said. "They don't have to tell you anything else; and if they haven't already, I doubt you'll get them to."

"But this is totally improper," Xu insisted. "We don't even have enough information to put together a proper team; Galbadia hasn't even said what kind of a mission it is."

"This contract names most of the team members already," Martine said. "That's an acceptable substitute, according to Garden protocol."

Xu shook her head. "There has to be some way I can at least hold out for more information. At least I could call for some kind of extension or demand proof of the urgency of the request."

"The only time you're authorized to disregard the emergency clause of your contract is if you feel the contract doesn't offer adequate pay for the deployment. Considering how much the Galbadians offered, I doubt they'll be receptive to such a complaint."

"But we won't _get_ the payment until the mission is complete," Xu argued. "How do I know they won't just keep the team indefinitely and hold back the money for that reason?"

"If you don't hear anything from them after one hundred days, you can demand more information," Martine replied. "Until then, your hands are tied." He sighed, glancing somewhere offscreen. "I warned you this contract was a bad idea, Xu. And for exactly this reason; by signing it, you gave Galbadia free rein to demand whatever they wished of you."

"I had to sign it," Xu said defensively. "Just covering damages from the Ultimecia business had already put us more than a million gil in debt, to say nothing of the costs of rebuilding Trabia Garden. And Galbadia could have easily made it difficult for us to attract new clients. There was no other way out."

"Well, now you have another situation to which there is only one way out." Martine paused, looking as if he had something to add. "The Galbadian liaison to my Garden raised a concern of her own recently," he said, "with the request that I pass it on to you. She wanted to make sure that you were aware of her government's objections to the training of a SeeD force in Trabia."

Xu nodded slowly, and a chill seemed to run through her as realization dawned. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? Galbadia is using this as a way of demonstrating what they can do to me if they so choose."

"I didn't know anything about this request until you sent me the document," Martine said. "But I wouldn't put it past them to put forward such a display of power."

Xu was silent for a moment, nodding absently at Martine's words. "I tried, you know," she said sadly. "No one else even wanted to do that much. After Cid and Edea...once they weren't with us anymore, everyone assumed Garden was finished, too. At the time, I felt that I had to take on the responsibility, and find some way to keep Cid's dream alive." She sighed. "Now I feel like it might have been better just to let it die."

"I had a similar conversation with Cid ten years ago," Martine said. "He was concerned about the effect Master NORG and his faculty would have on your Garden, and Galbadia on mine. I asked him if he was considering the possibility of disbanding Garden, and he told me, 'Absolutely not. Garden is bigger than any of us. As long as it exists, there is hope, no matter how bad things get.' I've reminded myself of those words many times over the years."

Xu nodded again. "I hope he was right," she said. "Because I don't know how much longer I can keep on doing this."

"I wish I had some encouraging words of my own to share with you," Martine said, "but the truth is, I felt the same way a year ago, when Galbadia took control and ousted me from my own Garden, in spite of all I'd done." A shadow passed over his face. "And things seem only to have gotten worse since then."

"I hope you're more encouraging than this when speaking to your students," Xu said, smiling wanly.

"I could say the same thing of you," Martine replied, returning the smile. "...I'll speak with Galbadia about this; there is a slight chance they might relax their demands once they feel their point has been made."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Xu said, nodding.

"Good day, Headmaster." Martine ended the call, and Xu, sighing heavily, buried her head in her hands with her elbows resting on the table. She needed a little time to collect herself, then she was going to get that extended contract with Galbadia and read it from cover to cover.


	8. Harsh Realities

"Thank you all for coming so promptly."

Xu sat down behind the desk in what was now the new Headmaster's office. As the metal column of the bridge no longer rose out of the floor, the room had regained most of of its formal decorum; although many were still a bit nervous about standing in the center of the carpet, where the bridge had first emerged.

"As I'm sure you've guessed," Xu began, "I've called you all here this morning because we have a mission for you. Or rather, Galbadia does." She made a face. "I have to say I don't like it much myself, but we're bound by contract, and we have to fulfill our obligations in the absence of any bad faith on the part of Galbadia." She nodded to a faculty member, who handed out copies of the SeeD request. "This is your contract; such as it is."

Assembled in the office were Squall, Quistis, Selphie, Zell, Irvine, Nida, Paige, and two SeeDs whom Squall didn't know well, Jeck Ingrahm and a new graduate named Karenna Logan. It was the morning after his encounter with Seifer, and the encounter still so dominated his thoughts that he did not even look at the contract until Nida raised his hand.

"Yes, Nida?" asked Xu.

"Is this a joke?"

Wondering at Nida's question, Squall scanned over the contract, and immediately understood the sentiment. "What the hell...?" he said out loud.

Xu sighed. "Unfortunately, it meets the minimum disclosure requirements outlined in our contract with Galbadia," she said. "And they're quite serious."

"_What_ disclosure?" pressed Nida. "There's no mission description, or duration estimate, or cancellation clause. All this contract says is, 'drop these SeeDs off in the mountains and you might or might not ever see them again!'"

"Hey, what are you so worried about, man?" asked Jeck. "Our employer'll tell us everything we need to know, right?"

"It looks like they don't think we need to know anything," replied Nida.

"Then we don't. It's not SeeD's duty to ask questions, man. We just do our job."

_That almost sounds like something __**I**__ would say,_ Squall thought. _Except this is too much even for me._ "They're telling us to walk blindly into their hands," he said aloud. "This isn't right at all."

"I agree," said Xu. "But I'm afraid we have no choice. I've already notified Galbadia of our acceptance. I tried to get more details, but they demanded an immediate answer, and I couldn't afford to say no."

Squall nodded. _So we get sacrificed to the Galbadians because Garden needs their money. I know she has to do it, but...it's damned annoying._

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave immediately," Xu said. "A Garden transport will take you into a designated location in the mountains, and the Galbadians should pick you up from there."

"Terrific," Nida said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

"Any other questions?" asked Xu.

_Are there any you could answer?_ wondered Squall. No one said a word.

"Then you're dismissed. You'll depart at 10:00; assemble promptly in the Parking Area."

They silently filed out of the office, the first five of them packing into the elevator. Squall, Quistis and Karenna were left behind, waiting for the car to come back.

"Won't this be your first mission, Karenna?" Quistis asked, breaking the silence some time after the elevator had disappeared.

"Yeah," Karenna replied. "Though I have to say I'm a bit less enthusiastic than I was when I got called up here."

Quistis smiled. "My first mission was to infiltrate a band of pirates working near Dollet. I served drinks on their ship for three weeks before I had enough evidence for the Coast Authority to arrest them."

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yes. Though I doubt there's anyone in Garden who can beat Squall's story here."

"I'll bet," Karenna laughed. "Saving the universe before your first mission is over; I just have to wonder where you can _go_ from there."

Squall was spared from the conversation for a moment by the arrival of the elevator. He quickly stepped in and pressed the **1F** button as the two women entered after him.

"I'm guessing this secret contract thing isn't normal, though?" Karenna asked, absently fingering the clasp which secured her brown hair into a single tail.

Quistis shook her head. "Oh, no. This is the first time we've had anything like this, and I dearly hope it's the last."

Karenna raised her eyebrows. "Well, lucky me. At least Paige has her boyfriend to keep her company."

Squall observed their conversation in near documentary detail, but with virtually no actual interest. His mind was not wandering, however; rather, it was utterly blank. It was as if he had burned out some fuse last night, and could no longer take an interest in the world around him or direct his thoughts beyond the sensations which were transmitted from his senses in any particular instant. He could recall Rinoa's name, but summon no picture of her face; or he remembered his encounter with Seifer, but recalled the events as if reading them off a report he had written, detailing every move, counter-strike and line of dialogue, but lacking any emotion or real connection to the events. It was as if his life had become a script.

"...but I just didn't see how those two could go together," Karenna was saying. "I thought Paige was scared to death of Zell until they started going out."

"I felt the same way," Quistis agreed. "And they _were_ so funny together at first."

"Yeah; well, now that she's actually comfortable around him, _Zell_ is the funny one to watch. I mean, Paige is totally in control of that relationship."

"I know!" Quistis exclaimed, laughing. "It's the strangest thing, but I love it!"

_Is this elevator even moving?_ thought Squall, as he wondered how long he would need to be subjected to this conversation. But, as if sensing his thoughts, the elevator slid to a halt, and the doors opened onto the main hall. The three stepped out, and Squall was left behind as he paused at the top of the stairs. As he looked at the students milling about the hall below him, he was again struck with a sensation of detachment, as if the bright, peaceful world of Balamb Garden was one of which he could never truly be a part. Nor was it even real; he had seen this hall engulfed with the chaos of battle more than once, and he knew the price which was paid every day to keep that hell from returning.

Today, he thought, he _was_ that price.

Shaking his head, he started down the stairs. _Rinoa,_ he called silently. _Where are you? I need to hear your voice again._

She thought she heard his voice, calling to her from some far, distant place. She tried to answer, but she couldn't speak. She had been having a dream, she thought. Yes; she had been in the garden, by the orphanage. Squall had been there, just like he promised. He had seen him there, waiting for her; but then she had turned and walked away. And wherever her footsteps fell, the flowers withered and turned to ash. Finally, she came to a place she had never seen before, a barren desert of sharp, craggy rocks. There, she had finally called out to him, and she had heard him answer, but he was far away, and she couldn't see him, and she didn't know which way to go. That was when the dream had ended.

Assuming she was awake now. Her consciousness seemed to float apart from her body; she could not feel anything around her. Her vision was a blur, and all sounds came as if from very far away. Her thoughts were clouded as if she were awaking from a very deep sleep.

"She's becoming conscious. If you want to reapply the dosage, we need to do it now."

"That won't be necessary. She's been properly confined. In any case, there's nothing of value we can learn while she's comatose."

"Yes, doctor."

Her vision was returning. Above her hovered a pattern of oblong splotches of light, set against a background of cold, dark gray. Two irregular forms hovered before her, on either side of her periphery. She blinked; it was an odd sensation, as she could still not feel the presence of her eyelids.

"Her neural activity is increasing rapidly. The effects of the repressants will be completely gone in a few moments."

"Fascinating. Enhanced recuperative capacity. Hardly unexpected, however. Are the instruments recording?"

"Yes, doctor."

She was beginning to make out shapes before her. There was a door, a wall, a floor. The bright spots above were forming into banks of bare fluorescent lights, illuminating the room with a cold, sterile glow. There were two people, standing on either side of her; but she still found herself unable to move her head. However, a throbbing sensation was asserting itself throughout her body, and she thought she could feel the cold presence of metal pressing against her arms and legs.

"Where am I?" she whispered.

"She reads as almost fully conscious, Doctor."

"So I can see. Fascinating. We'll begin with a thermal series."

A pricking sensation began to tickle about the points of metal. "...What's happening?" she asked. "What are you doing to me?"

"Doctor, the painkillers have been neutralized as well, but sensory response is still much less severe than it should be."

"So is tissue damage. I would speculate some inherent resistance to injury, in addition to recuperative ability, which was also to be expected."

"Who are you?" she asked again. "Why —"

"Let's move to opposing electrical current. This should generate some results."

A pulsing wave of energy ran through her body, seeming to set her nerves ablaze. she screamed, but her senses were so overwhelmed that the sound barely registered to her.

"Definite pain reaction. Massive variations in energy field dynamics, but no discernible pattern."

"Very well. We've certainly determined the negative element, in any case. Schedule a comprehensive electrical series, and see that the necessary equipment is procured."

"Yes, doctor."

She felt as if she were sinking back into a sea of unconsciousness, as her vision swam and her mind seemed to float away. Still tingling from the onslaught of pain, she welcomed the passage away from waking thought.


	9. Beyond Control

Nida was leaning against the wall by the entrance to Garden's parking lot, flipping through a copy of _Timber Maniacs_ as he waited for the other SeeDs to arrive. A short distance away, Jeck was attempting to impress Zell, Paige and Karenna with a story about one of his assignment in Galbadia, and doing so loudly enough to make Nida's attempts at reading more than a little difficult.

"So it turns out these bandits were really, like, disgruntled ex-military types or something, and they had a whole garrison hidden up in that hill. So what we did was, I went in and made this big diversion so the others could sneak in and knock out the base's power. Thing was, by the time they got around to shutting down the generator, I'd already blown a huge hole in their perimeter, and the G-Army could just walk straight in anyhow." He thumped his chest haughtily. "I captured their leader myself, you know."

Nida rolled his eyes. "I went on that mission, Jeck. The perimeter was a half-dozen light infantry and a rusted-out BGM unit that could barely move."

Paige laughed.

"Say what you want, man," Jeck said, "but I was the lynch pin of that operation, and I performed above and beyond the call of duty. I tell you, if they'd have sent _me_ to Timber, that place would have been independent in no time."

"Hey, watch it, man!" Zell warned, not amused.

"You're just jealous 'cause you don't have the talent," Jeck said. "I'm just hoping I finally get a chance to prove myself on this mission."

"You're an idiot," Nida declared, returning to his magazine.

"Say it all you want," Jeck drawled. "You'll see when the time comes."

"Is Jeck telling hero stories again?" Quistis' voice asked from the direction of the hallway. Nida glanced back to see her, along with Irvine and Selphie, approaching the group loaded with travel gear.

"Yeah; what's up with that, man?" Irvine demanded. "Everybody knows I'm the real hero of Garden."

Selphie giggled.

"Oh, _please_," Jeck said dismissively. "You just became a SeeD last month."

"Exactly!" Irvine retorted. "I helped save the universe while I was still in training. I'd like to see you beat _that_!"

"You're both impossible," chided Quistis, who was nonetheless unable to disguise her amusement.

Irvine and Selphie went off to join the others, while Quistis paused a moment by Nida. "I just know those two are going to get themselves into some kind of trouble on a job like this," she said, watching Irvine and Jeck.

"Why should this one be any different?" Nida asked, frowning at Quistis' gear. "What all did you guys pack, anyway? You look like you're getting ready for a trip to the moon."

Quistis shrugged, with a little smile. "For all we know, that might be where we're going." She sighed, glancing back toward the hall. "You know, the thing that worries me most about all this is Squall."

Nida raised his eyebrows. "Well, it's different for everyone, I guess. For me, it's how we don't know where we're going or what we're supposed to do or when or if we'll ever get to see Garden again."

"Well, of course that's troubling," replied Quistis. "But this'll be the first time Squall's actually led a mission in months. And he's been so preoccupied lately with Rinoa; I don't know what the stress of active duty will do to him." She shook her head. "This whole thing is affecting Xu terribly as well. I know she hates granting requests like this, but she feels she owes it to Cid to keep the Gardens running." She glanced at Nida. "You could have been nicer, you know."

"Hey." Nida glanced away for a moment, a little uncomfortable with the direct attention. "I know this isn't her fault, but this is my life that's getting played with, so I do reserve the right to be annoyed about it."

"Well, I hate this as much as you do," Quistis said. "But sometimes complaining about things beyond your control can just make them worse."

Nida raised his eyebrows. "Sort of like _worrying_ about things beyond your control?"

Quistis frowned at him for a moment, then gave a small laugh. "Okay. So will you stop complaining about this mission if I stop worrying about Squall?"

Nida nodded thoughtfully. "I think I could live with that." He glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, here he comes."

Squall was making his way down the path towards the assembled SeeDs, carrying little besides his gunblade. Nida also noted that he was the only one of them who was not wearing his SeeD uniform, choosing his too-short leather jacket instead. The Commander glanced up as he came within speaking distance of the team, returning their gazes.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked flatly.

"You," Jeck replied simply.

Squall didn't seem to react at all. "Then let's move out."

"_Headmaster Martine has agreed to provide training for a small number of elite soldiers here at Garden, sir. Your expectations were correct; he voiced no significant objection. We've already drafted a tentative contract."_

Lord-General Naraka nodded at the voice issuing from the speakerphone on his desk. "Very well, General Tolmar. Have the contract sent to me for review before it is signed."

"_Of course."_

"Now, then." Naraka flipped open one of the folders that lay at the top of a stack of documents that had accumulated on his desk over the course of the day. "I was shown a report this morning, filed by a patrol skimmer attached to our Southern Fleet near Centra. They report contact with an unidentified ship of Galbadian design, but that the ship disappeared into the archipelago before they could intercept it." He closed the report again. "It seems the renegades have escaped the might of our navy yet again."

There was a pause from General Tolmar. _"I thought we had conclusive evidence they had been destroyed this time."_

"As did I. I intend to question the Admiral quite thoroughly on that matter at the earliest opportunity. In the mean time, I have come to feel that this enemy is not one we can ferret out through traditional military means. I believe another approach is needed."

"_Specifically, sir?"_

"There are times, General, when you need a thief to catch a thief. What we need is to employ a force that can understand how this enemy thinks. One trained in a similar fashion, perhaps. Thus the reason why I am speaking to you of this."

"_You wish me to to make another request of Headmaster Martine?"_ Tolmar's voice inquired.

"His Garden has forces trained not only in mercenary operations, but military etiquette as well," Naraka said, scanning over another document as he spoke. "They can track down this enemy without alerting them to any pursuit and forcing them into hiding. When we have their location, we can trap them before they even know a threat exists."

"_I'm unsure about this, Lord-General,"_ Tolmar said cautiously. _"This enemy has shown considerable resilience; they might not place themselves in a position vulnerable enough to pose an opportunity for us."_

"We have nearly caught them on numerous occasions," Naraka retorted. "With accurate intelligence on their whereabouts, we cannot fail."

There was another pause. _"I'm also reluctant to place another request to Headmaster Martine so soon. Especially with the SeeD force we've recruited from Balamb; I fear we may be reaching the limit of their tolerance."_

"Nonsense," Naraka said dismissively, as he picked up a pen to attach his signature to the document, then moved on to another. "They need our funding to survive. So long as we continue to provide adequate funding, the Gardens will do whatever we wish, as they cannot afford to do otherwise."

"_This request is different,"_ Tolmar insisted. _"I can't imagine they would agree to hunting down their own, no matter the price."_

"General," Naraka began, in a slightly scolding tone, "your opposition to my orders begins to concern me. I am almost made to think you are willfully attempting to defy me."

There was a short pause before Tolmar, voice as even as ever, replied, _"Of course I merely wish for the best possible outcome, Lord-General."_

"Of course. In any case, these SeeDs will be hunting nothing any more exceptional than a band of particularly aggressive pirates. Is that understood?"

"_Understood, Lord-General,"_ the replay came after a moment.

"Make sure Headmaster Martine and his SeeDs understand as well. I want no mistakes. This enemy of Galbadia has existed far too long. Do whatever it takes to see that they are eliminated."

"_Very well. Will that be all, Lord-General?"_

"Yes. Contact me again when you have results." With that, Naraka terminated the connection, activating the switch that paged his office assistant. "Ms. Locken, please arrange a telephone conference between myself and our ambassador to Esthar. As soon as is convenient, if you please."

"_Yes, sir. What should I tell him it's about?"_

"Nothing of overwhelming significance," Naraka replied. "Merely some unfinished business that's remained so far too long."

"_I understand, sir."_

Completing the sheaf of papers he had been working through, Naraka stood, turning to face the window that looked out on the streets of Deling City. A year had passed since one overlooked threat had led to the streets being engulfed in violence, and Naraka had ascended to power with a promise never to allow such a thing to happen again. Yet despite all his efforts, a few loose ends remained, threatening to unravel the complacency of the people once again. The successful capture of the Sorceress in Timber had contained one such outstanding threat, but that success had been marred by this revelation that another, perhaps equally serious danger had once again escaped all his best efforts to eliminate it. The situation was becoming maddening.

Turning back to his desk, he picked up a folder labeled **SeeD PROFILES - GALBADIA GARDEN** and began to scan through the names of available operatives. The rest of the day's affairs could be postponed until he had determined his own list of individuals suitable for the task he had in mind. He had promised that the security of Galbadia would always be paramount, and to that he was absolutely committed. Far too much had already been sacrificed for him to fail now.

_SeeD __**is**__ a danger,_ he admitted, _even bound as they are by Galbadian funding. Working for us, they are formidable enforcers, but turned against us they can become our deadliest foe. It won't be until SeeD is fully and irrevocably under our control that Galbadia will be truly secure._


	10. Pain

The doors to the lab made a deep grating noise as they slid open to admit the doctor's entry. Rinoa could hear the sharp, measured clicking of his footsteps on the metal floor as he walked over to the monitors in the middle of the room. She watched him as he scanned across the bank of displays that were arrayed there, angled away from her so that she could not see their contents. Even so, Rinoa had no doubt that it she was the sole focus of their — and the doctor's — attention.

Almost absently, the doctor brought up an electronic clipboard which he held in his left hand, tapping on it with some sort of pen. "Subject continues to show remarkable resilience to any damaging agents," he intoned. "Readings also show a direct relation between the amount of radiated magic energy and rate of healing, which fits with previous evidence suggesting magically enhanced body performance. Naturally, subject demonstrates this trait to a heretofore undocumented degree."

Rinoa wanted to speak to the man; she hated being treated like some lab rat who wasn't even worthy of a name. But her throat was incredibly dry, and her voice caught before it could form into words, emerging only as a strangled croak. The doctor spared a brief glance at her, before tapping something else onto his clipboard as if he had not even noticed.

"Subject's magical emanations appear related to activity in the subconscious areas of the brain, rather than the memory centers as is typical with a junctioned Guardian Force. This raises the possibility that varying levels of magical intensity may impact subject's behavioral patterns, or vise versa."

He keyed a command onto one of the keyboards hooked up to the displays before him, and Rinoa felt a cold, stabbing pain at the base of her skull. At first, the pain from the implant was enough to set her to tears; but she was becoming used to many of the torturous devices which the doctor would employ. Unfortunately, she was also all too aware of what came next.

"Please." She forced the words through her parched throat; the voice that emerged was barely recognizable to her. "Don't do this."

His gaze flicked back to her; cool, completely detached, and utterly unemotional. "The probes won't induce a response if you're unconscious," he said matter-of-factly. "We have tried. We're not sure why it is, but we're left without alternatives for the time being."

The stinging cold was spreading, bringing with it a numbness that claimed the entire back of her head. "Please stop," she croaked again. "Stop doing this to me."

An eyebrow arched, so slightly that Rinoa was uncertain that it had not been a trick of her vision, which was becoming ever harder to focus. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he said; and Rinoa almost believed she heard a faint trace of regret, the first emotion she had ever detected in the man's voice. "This research is necessary. You, and those like you, pose too great a threat."

He paused a moment, regarding her with the same detached expression she could always observe in him; although this one seemed just a little more pained than usual. Then, he tapped another command onto his clipboard. "Twenty-third June, six thirty-four. Data for direct area stimulation, series four." And he tapped another button on the keyboard before him.

Although Rinoa had steeled herself for the pain that she had known was coming, as usual the burning sensation that flooded through her consciousness could easily overload all her defenses; she was quickly lost in the sea of pain, and any coherent thought quickly became impossible.

The nine SeeDs stood atop a wide plateau high in the Balamb mountains. The weather was pleasant, and the air for once stood perfectly still. The stillness did well to symbolize the pervasive boredom which hung over the group; their car had long since headed back to Garden, and they had been waiting for the promised Galbadian transport for over an hour now.

Quistis was pacing aimlessly around the group, doing her best to look more concerned with how the others were doing than simply bored. Selphie and Paige were playing cards, and had established that neither of them had any particular skill. Zell had been shadowboxing and performing acrobatics for at least half an hour, Irvine was cleaning his gun for the third time, and Squall, true to form, had found the only spot on the plateau suitable to leaning against, and put it to use; he stood with his back against it, arms folded, staring at his boots.

"Man, how long are they gonna keep us here?" demanded Jeck. "I mean, we're SeeD, the best of the elite and all that! They should count themselves lucky we're even taking their stupid mission."

"Considering they never really gave us a choice in the matter," Quistis replied, "I'm not so sure."

"I have to say, though," said Nida, "this really isn't heightening my enthusiasm for the mission at all."

"I bet it's some kind of psychological thing," said Paige. "They want us to know that they're the ones with the power here."

"Oh yeah?" Jeck scoffed. "Well, SeeD will just have to teach those jerks a thing or two."

Quistis sighed. "Don't do anything stupid, Jeck."

He shrugged off the warning. "Relax, Quisty. This is _me_ we're talking about."

Zell rolled his eyes, either at Jeck's proclamation or his use of Quistis' childhood nickname, it wasn't clear.

"That's what we're worried about," Nida said dryly.

Jeck scowled at him.

Squall was witness to this conversation by reason of the rather close proximity and absolute lack of any other distracting sound. He was experiencing a milestone of sorts; his boredom had reached such an advanced stage that it had actually interrupted his brooding. This was exceptional because generally boredom was the catalyst for him to start thinking in the first place.

Not that he particularly minded the departure from thought. Often when he started thinking, bad things happened.

Naturally, he had been thinking about Rinoa. Whatever Galbadia had in store for them on this mission, he could be sure that any attempt to save her would be out of the question for its unknown duration. Furthermore, his responsibilities to Garden made it all but impossible for him to run off and jeopardize relations between the academy and its biggest donor. And finally, he had absolutely no idea where to look. That last concern was probably the only thing that was preventing the desire to go off and rescue her from overriding all logic in his brain and sending him off to his — and Garden's — near-certain doom.

And he was thinking again. He sighed. He especially hated times like this, when his mind would simply run around in circles, getting nowhere and helping nothing. Glancing over at Irvine, he wished he had brought along the proper tools to sharpen his gunblade.

His mind seemed to ignore his own interruption, and shifted right back to Rinoa. Now he found himself going back over the past year, searching for any opportunity during which he could have slipped away, gone to visit her in Timber or even help her in her cause. Once, shortly before Cid had died, Squall had proposed to him that he go to collect Garden's money for his, Selphie's and Zell's deployment with the Forest Owls; the resistance group had never paid. Cid had dissuaded him of the plan, but now Squall wondered what would have happened if he had pushed just a little harder...

"Hey."

He blinked, looking up at the unexpected intrusion. Karenna was leaning against the rock beside him, regarding him with a slightly amused expression. Squall wasn't terribly surprised that he hadn't noticed her approach, but he did hope that she would leave again soon. As much as he disliked thinking, he wanted company even less.

No such luck. "So this is my first mission. Are all my team leaders going to be this inspiring?"

"..." Squall very much hoped she would go away.

"Seriously, everyone in Garden really looks up to you. I guess it's one of those things where you're a lot more impressive from a distance."

_I never asked to be a role model._ "..."

"People are starting to wonder, though. When the Fearless Leader never talks to anyone and spends all his time locked up in his room, people get worried that he's going to start surrounding himself with Moombas, or wearing a big foil sash and hat, or whatever crazy stuff mad dictators do."

Squall realized that his regular deterrence methods were proving completely ineffective. _This girl is __**way**__ too persistent,_ he thought. In a way, her tenacity reminded him a bit of Rinoa.

He shook his head vigorously. He didn't need to be making _that_ connection.

Karenna's eyes narrowed at his action. "You're off in your own little world right now, aren't you? I'm starting to think you spend more time in that one than out here with the rest of us."

"What did you do on your field exam?" Squall asked, deciding that she would never shut up unless he did something.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You _can_ talk. I thought you could; I remembered you saying something at the briefing..."

Squall looked away. Would this _never_ end?

"Anyway, we were supposed to clean those monsters out of Fishermans Horizon, right? My team had to check all the ships at the dock. Real boring, most of the time; but then this low-level Torama tried to slip past us..." She shrugged. "Ever tried to put a Torama in a safety cage? _That_ was fun."

"You know what it's like to assassinate someone?" Squall asked. "Or kidnapping? Ever been undercover, where the enemy's likely to kill you if they find out who you are?"

Karenna smiled. "This is where you give me the rookie speech, right? You tell me that I'm about to witness horrors that I can't begin to imagine, so I shouldn't judge you for how they've landed you with the conversational skills of an uncharged Blitz?"

Squall glared at her; and he knew, in that moment, that this girl would cause him a great deal of annoyance in his future.

"I don't want friends," he said; and was momentarily surprised by himself. He'd meant to say, _Don't try to be my friend._

Karenna shrugged. "Your loss."

She was silent for a bit after that. Squall was all ready to fall back into his brooding state, but a faint sound off to the east caught his attention. Frowning, he looked over to see the unmistakable form of a Galbadian airship cruising towards them. As he made this determination, the sound of its turbines seemed to magnify as the ship closed in on their plateau.

"Well, there's our ride," Zell said, picking up his pack.

"Rats," Nida said. "I was kind of hoping they wouldn't show."

Silently, Squall went over to join the other SeeDs as the massive ship settled to a rest above them, casting down a ladder which they were clearly expected to ascend.


	11. The Task at Hand

Keri paced absently about the briefing room, occasionally pausing behind the seat she had chosen for herself but had yet to sit in. She had arrived a bit early for their mission briefing, along with the other three SeeDs who had been summoned on the morning bulletin, but by now the time had come that the faculty could arrive with their briefing at any moment, so the anticipation — and apprehension — among the SeeDs was mounting.

Though this would be her first mission as well, Keri herself was not particularly apprehensive. Aside from what little experience she had gained in the odd events that took place in the aftermath of the Third Sorceress War, she guessed that, since the team she had been appointed with was composed primarily of non-combat specialists, their mission probably be more of a support role, where someone else did all the fighting and dangerous work. But none of this did anything to reduce her curiosity; she had only been granted her full SeeD status at the final term review less than a week before. Most new SeeDs at Galbadia Garden would wait for much longer before receiving their first assignment.

"Would you stop that?" demanded Sean, another new SeeD here for his first assignment. Already seated, he _did_ look rather nervous. "It's really distracting."

"And what are _you_ doing that's so important?" That was Tavin, a friend of Keri's and the only veteran SeeD in the group. Sean glared at him, but didn't respond to the other SeeD's challenge. Even so, Keri stopped pacing and took a seat.

Not long after, the door slid open to admit a pair of individuals in Garden administrative clothing. As Keri joined the others in rising to attention, she noticed that the person in the lead was Ms. Palmer, the head of the Faculty. This struck her as rather odd; Palmer tended to work behind the scenes, and the students would rarely ever see her under any circumstances.

"At ease." The other man, a member of the Faculty whom Keri found familiar but couldn't name, remained standing as Palmer took a seat at the head of the table and the SeeDs retook their seats as well. "All SeeDs are accounted for," he announced, scanning over their faces and checking a clipboard he held in his hand.

Palmer nodded. "Very well; let's begin. As you are no doubt aware, you four are here because you have been contracted for a SeeD assignment. Your client for this mission will be the Republic of Galbaida." The other faculty member now distributed folders to each of the four SeeDs. "Your mission will be to assist in the capture or destruction of a pirate vessel which has been raiding Galbadian interests for the past several weeks. Galbadian Intelligence believes them to be operating out of a hideout somewhere in the northern Centra region, but they have so far been unable to precisely locate it. All pertinent information is in the files that have been given to you."

She paused, removing her reading glasses and looking directly at the SeeDs for the first time. "You'll be operating from a seaborne Mobile Command Unit for the duration of this mission. The vehicle is waiting in Dollet harbor; you'll depart on the 12:00 train and report to the ship's captain no later than 16:00." Here she paused again. "And always remember: as SeeDs, you have an obligation to the integrity of Garden and the principles on which it was founded. That supersedes everything."

She stood, and the four SeeDs returned to attention. "Dismissed," said the other Faculty member.

The four SeeDs permitted their confusion to manifest itself the moment they were out in the hallway and safely away from the observation of the faculty. "They're sending us off on a Galbadian ship?" Sean asked. "Since when did we join the G-Army?"

"Idiot," Tavin replied coldly. "Garden coordinates with Galbadia for a lot of its missions. How d'you think we get all the military-grade equipment?"

"What was that thing she said at the end?" Keri asked. "About upholding the integrity of Garden? That seemed kind of strange."

"Yeah; it's the first time I've had anyone do that," Tavin agreed. "First time Palmer herself came down to do the briefing, too."

"This must be important," said Mara, a taller girl who made the fourth in their team. "It didn't seem like we were just being sent out to hunt down some pirates. They didn't tell us everything."

"It doesn't matter," Tavin said. "We know our job, so let's get it done without any stupid questions. Everyone okay with that?"

His tone made it clear this was a rhetorical question. Nonetheless, Sean and Mara smartly saluted, uttering "Yes, sir!" before heading off to collect their gear. Keri sighed.

"You know, I really hate it when you get like this," she said, walking with him towards their own dorms. "People give me weird looks because I hang around with you."

"I don't need some idiot rookies like them screwing up my mission," Tavin retorted.

Keri rolled her eyes. "You've got a great team spirit. It's so clear why they made you the leader."

Tavin glared at her. "It's not the leader's job to baby-sit his troops. Either you're up to the job or you're not; and it you're not, then you don't deserve to be here and there's a dispatch officer somewhere who deserves a stiff boot out the door."

Keri knew well enough not to argue; Tavin was very consistent in his inability to back down. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

He faltered in his step, looking genuinely surprised. "What'd you just say?"

"This is your first long-term deployment," Keri pressed. "And you're in command, with a team without any operational experience at all."

"_You've_ got experience."

Keri rolled her eyes. "I spent nearly all of that mission in the library translating Kashkabald prewriting. That doesn't really count."

"Sure it does. You did field work on the Lunatic Pandora, and you kept your head on straight under tough circumstances when some other kid would run crying for his Moomba doll."

"Well, thanks," Keri said noncommittally. "But you're dodging my question. Are you worried one of us will mess up on this mission, and you'll get blamed for it?"

Tavin fixed her with a particularly fierce glare; he could guess that Keri really thought Tavin was worried about making a mistake _himself_. But he said nothing; and simply set off again at a quicker pace.

Keri sighed, but decided not to pursue him any further. Whatever he was worried about, Tavin had always been rather touchy under pressure; she could only hope that no dispatch officer would suffer on _his_ account.

In the past year, Seifer had gained a familiarity with the city of Timber that rivaled that of his former home in Balamb Garden; although if he had to find his way along the main streets from one district to the other, he would nonetheless be completely lost. His familiarity was of a different nature; he knew the back alleys and deserted side streets better than the cats who had made them into their own shadow community. He had easily slipped from the bus station onto a run-down boardwalk and into an alley which ran directly behind the Timber Maniacs building, despite his status as the most wanted man in Galbadia.

He let himself down a set of stairs and through an unlocked door into the basement of the building, which housed the printing equipment for the weekly publication. The large machines were not particularly active now, as the next issue had yet to be written; and the room was almost totally silent. Seifer's footsteps echoed as he stepped in onto the hard stone floor, as did the sound of his closing the door behind him.

Almost as soon as the door was shut, five figures stepped out from their hiding places behind the machines. Seifer recognized two of the Forest Owls by name, from introductions made by Rinoa two years before; the others were more recent members whom he had observed from a distance over the past year. He also noticed the conspicuous absence of one specific face.

"Where's Zone?" he asked. He'd never been particularly impressed with the supposed leader of the Forest Owls, but the boy was always at least hanging around.

The others looked at each other uneasily. "He quit, sir," said one, a kid Seifer recalled as Watts. "He said he couldn't take it anymore. Kane's our leader now, sir." He nodded to the boy in the center of the formation.

Seifer narrowed his eyes at the indicated person. Kane was the other face whom he could attach to a name; Rinoa had introduced him to Seifer as the Forest Owls' newest member. He hadn't found much of note about the boy at the time, but he didn't need to be reminded how much things — and people — had changed in those two years.

"Fine," he said. "Have _you_ got it?"

Kane nodded, glancing at Watts. The other boy stepped forward, offering Seifer a storage disk. "We got the info, sir; but it's in code. We don't know what it says."

Seifer stopped just before taking the disk. "Then how do I know that it's what I need?"

"The Galbadians sent a message to their military command in Monterosa just after they captured Rinoa," Kane said. "They got a response back thirteen minutes later. They sent out another the next morning. All three had the same subject header, so we know they're all related. Plus, they were the only top-priority messages the relay station's handled in the last month."

Seifer frowned. Challenging the memories he had of the Forest Owls, Kane's explanation seemed to show a respectable degree of intelligence. "Fine," he said, taking the disk and turning to leave.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Seifer entertained the notion of ignoring Watts' voice, but already his body had decided to turn back around. "You got something more to say?" he asked.

The Forest Owl seemed to be particularly uncomfortable, glancing uncertainly back at Kane and the others. "Rinoa's...really changed, sir. Ever since she came back from...well, everything that happened last year, she hasn't really been herself. She didn't talk as much, and whenever she did it was always about Galbadia, how we could get them, force them out of Timber and all. And..." He paused, his gaze shifting to anything but Seifer. "She never smiled, sir. She didn't ever look happy anymore. About anything. I remember she always used to talk about you, sir, and I...I thought you could maybe do something."

A number of thoughts ran through Seifer's head. First was, _Rinoa's been captured by the Galbadians, and __**this**_ _is what he's worried about?_ As the details of Watts' statement nonetheless began to work through his mind, the thought was replaced by _Rinoa thought about __**me**__? Has this guy been in a coma for the last year?_ Then, even as he mentally kicked himself for opening the door to some pathetic self-pity bout, he realized that he really was giving Watts' words a considerable amount of thought.

"I'll see," he said brusquely, and retreated out the door. Back in the alley, he made his way towards the outer districts of town, and returned to his somewhat involuntary obsession. He'd been able to tell that Rinoa had looked more than a little distant over the months he had been shadowing her. But he had attributed this to her separation from Squall; he'd assumed that she would be brooding over _him_, much as Mr. Leader had become ever more obsessed with her. But as he thought back, he came to wonder. She had awakened early every day, and worked well into the night, running back and forth and meeting with various resistance groups or staging raids on the Galbadians. She'd thrown herself into the work with an almost unnatural zeal; yet, Seifer realized, he had never thought it at all unusual until now.

As he came within sight of his destination, a mostly subterranean parking garage at the edge of town, he realized why this was: he had lived his own life in the exact same way, ever since he had entered the SeeD program back at Garden. From dawn till curfew, he'd found pursuits that would keep him too busy to even think about life; from training to work on the Disciplinary Committee and even his studies. He had been so set on his goal to become a SeeD that nothing else ever seemed to matter.

He shook his head as he slipped into the garage, heading for where Fujin and Raijin should be waiting with the car. Considering where his own attitude had landed him, the thought of Rinoa casting away her own life in the same way was not a pleasant one.

He glanced down at the disk he still held in his hand. Any concerns about Rinoa throwing away her life would be rather pointless if he let the Galbadians end it for her anyway. He had to find her; and he only hoped that the Forest Owls had truly overcome their incompetence enough to help him find a place to look.


	12. In Transit

A slight vibration ran through the deckplates of the Galbadian airship, and Irvine was able to keep time with the spin of the massive rotors that helped to hold the craft aloft. For its size, the ship was remarkably claustrophobic, with a stark, utilitarian design that did not seem to have had comfort in mind. A row of small viewports in the mess hall were the only means to view anything beyond the airship's stiff metal walls, and all they could see there was the endless stretch of ocean. The nine SeeDs had all been bunked in the same room, a barracks-like arrangement with enough beds for two dozen. Although they were free to move about the ship, the vessel was a military transport whose control and engine rooms were sealed behind heavy pressure doors, so aside from a mess hall and armory, there was nothing particularly interesting to see.

Irvine had just returned from dinner in the mess, which was where most of the others still were; he was a little surprised to find Selphie sitting in a corner at the far end of the room. At first, he thought she was asleep, as it was a rare occasion when he could recall seeing her so still. Her nunchaku rested in her lap, and she was simply staring at it, not even seeming to notice Irvine as he approached.

"Hey," he said. "What's up?"

She glanced at him, offering a distracted smile. "This trip is so boring," she complained. "There's nothing to do."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me." He lowered herself to the floor beside her. "So what d'you think these Galbadians are up to?" he asked, as her attention seemed to be drifting off again. "I mean, they only use these airships for really long-range travel, when boats can't get there fast enough. So wherever they're taking us, it must be really important."

Selphie didn't respond at all. Irvine was getting concerned; he couldn't remember the last time she had been this preoccupied.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Hm?" she glanced at him. "I'm just worried about Rinoa. I mean, what if the Galbadians really _did_ capture her?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," he said. "After all, she's been fine so far, hasn't she?"

He wondered if the words seemed as false to her as they did to him. The fear for Rinoa's safety was something they had all become familiar with over the past year. Indeed, Selphie had always been the most vocal in her desire to go to Timber and help her fight against Galbadia. But Squall would always say that there was no way any of them could help, and that Rinoa didn't expect any. He always got angry when someone brought it up, too; eventually, even Selphie had stopped talking about it.

"It's so unfair that Squall can't even go to help her," Selphie complained. "The hero should _always_ be with his true love."

"Yeah," Irvine agreed. "This story's got problems."

They lapsed into silence again for a moment, until Irvine decided that, when Selphie was this somber, it could have dire repercussions for the stability of the universe. "Hey," he said. "You know that band you were talking about getting for the Garden Festival? Back in Galbadia, I knew this jazz group that plays in Dollet sometimes. Maybe I could get them to make a performance. They've got this really great rendition of Slide Show..."

"Really?" Selphie was instantly restored to her customary cheer. "We could have them after the play! And...heey, maybe we could have a big dance party, too! This'll be great!"

Irvine smiled. He thought of Selphie as the person best able to lift all their spirits; it was somewhat gratifying to know that he could do the same for hers.

"I just don't understand why they wouldn't tell us anything about our mission," Paige said as she picked at her meal, which only slightly resembled the Zeio broth that the chef had purported it to be. "Wouldn't it help everybody if we knew what to prepare for?"

"Politics make people do strange things sometimes," Quistis replied, absently stirring the remnants of her own soup. "I think Galbadia might just want to get us out of the way. They hired all the SeeDs who had anything to do with the Ultimecia campaign, which I don't think is a coincidence."

"Well, what about us, then?" asked Karenna. "Paige and I weren't involved in any of that business. What would they want us for?"

Quistis shrugged. "Garden always reserves the right to select at least one-third of the team. Letting Xu pick you three was the only way they could be sure to get the six of _us_."

"So basically, the Galbadians have something in store for you guys, and we're just along for the ride," Karenna inferred.

"I suppose so," said Quistis. "Sorry."

Then she noticed that Paige had become a fair degree paler. "I doubt they'd actually _do_ anything to us," she said. "They gain a lot from their agreement with Garden, too; they wouldn't want to jeopardize it by harming SeeDs."

Paige nodded. "Right. Okay."

"It does seem kind of mean of Xu to send rookies like us out on a job like this," Karenna noted.

"Well, she didn't have much choice," said Quistis defensively. "With four A-rank SeeDs already, she couldn't really afford to send any more veteran members. Besides, you wouldn't _be_ SeeDs unless —"

"Uh-huh," Karenna said, nodding.

"I just can't help being a little scared," said Paige. "I was like this during the field exam, too; and then we were just hunting down a bunch of monsters."

Quistis gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry; it's perfectly normal to be apprehensive. My first few missions as a SeeD, I was terrified. It actually helps; if you get overconfident, you don't concentrate as hard, and you can make mistakes."

"...Okay," Paige conceded. "But it doesn't feel very good."

"You'll get used to it in no time," Quistis promised. "Trust me."

Being finished with her meal, she excused herself and deposited her tray in the washer bin. She stole a glance at Squall, who had found himself the most isolated corner available and sat glaring at the rivets on the table legs. It occurred to her that a leader should be taking some part in reassuring the team; she didn't necessarily want _much_ from him, but maybe if he acknowledged their existence once in a while...

After a moment's deliberation, she went over to join him. "Squall," she said, sitting down across the table from him. "I'd like to report about the status of your team."

He glanced at her, but didn't answer.

"They're worried, and frightened about what we'll find at our destination." She gave him a pointed stare, despite the fact that he wasn't looking at her. "This would be an ideal situation for the leader to reassure them."

Squall didn't respond; but Quistis could easily imagine him thinking, _Go away. Can't you see I want to be alone?_

"Squall, you don't have the luxury of brooding like this," she continued. "The leader has to set an example. You have a responsibility."

Now he glared at her.

"I _know_ you're a good leader, Squall. I remember how you handled the battle with Galbadia Garden, and how inspirational you were to everyone." She nodded to the SeeDs clustered around behind her. "Well, your team needs that here. For some of them, it's their first mission, and a lot of us aren't prepared for this situation we're in." She caught another glimpse into his thoughts. "It doesn't matter if you're any more prepared then they are. You have to show confidence, because that's what lets them know that they _are_ capable of doing this job."

Still, Squall didn't reply, and she lost his attention again to the table leg. Sighing, she stood, but then bent down again to try one more time.

"You can't help Rinoa like this," she said quietly. The mention of her name caused his eyes to snap up at her in half a blink. "But you _can_ help your team. The best thing you can do for everyone right now is to put her out of mind until you're in a position to act."

With that, she left him to his table.

A moment later, the tone of the rotors' hum changed, and the deck began to tilt slightly to the left. Quistis frowned, and made her way to one of the portholes on that side of the mess hall, peering out in search of the reason for this change.

It didn't take her long; below them and off to port of the airship was a massive platform rising out of the sea. A collection of landing pads, control towers and low, bunker-like buildings, the facility looked to be a cross between a military base and a mining rig. She could see vehicles parked on some of the landing pads, and ships docked at the sides; a set of landing lights were flashing on the largest of the pads, as the airship circled in towards the facility.

Most of the others in the mess hall had also come to have a look. "What is _that_ thing?" Jeck demanded.

"It's a Galbadian weapons-research facility," Quistis said. "They used to conduct research on GFs and para-magic, especially the draw system. We found it a year ago, but it was abandoned then."

"Well, it sure don't look abandoned now," Jeck replied.

"Battleship Island," Paige breathed. "Why would they want to bring us _here_?"

Quistis shook her head. The facility passed out of view as the airship settled into place above it. "I suppose we're going to find out."


	13. Limitations

**June 7**

"It's truly an honor to have you here, Mr. President," said the school headmaster as he led Laguna down the hall to the classrooms. "If we'd had some warning you were coming, we would have organized some sort of reception, or —"

"Hey, I don't want a parade!" Laguna insisted. "I just came by to see how your schools are doing, and visit an old friend. That's all."

"Of course, Mr. President. But still, if we could call an assembly so that you could speak to all our children — just for a short while, of course — I'm sure it would be a wonderful experience for them."

"Uh..." Laguna wondered for a moment if he should. "Sure! I'd love to —"

"Laguna," Kiros whispered. "You've got to be at the economic forum in thirty minutes."

"...but not for too long, though!" Laguna finished.

"Of course not, Mr. President," said the headmaster. "I understand how precious your time is — Ah! Here's Ms. Leonhart's class."

He opened the door to show a room with about a dozen children facing a young woman with short, brown hair. "...so let's open our books to..." the woman was saying; but she abruptly trailed off once she identified the figures on the other side of the door. "Oh, my...Uncle Laguna?"

"Hi, Elle!" Laguna said, beaming. "Just thought I'd drop in and —"

The two of them collided in a joyful embrace. Kiros, Ward and the headmaster looked on with varying degrees of confusion and resignation regarding the lack of formality.

"Um, everybody," Ellone said, regaining her composure. "This is a very good friend of mine. And he's also the president of the whole country of Esthar. Let's all make him feel welcome, okay?"

"Hello, Mr. Laguna!" a chorus of children uttered.

"Hi, kids!" Laguna replied. "So, you guys know who I am?"

"Yoo're th' Pwesident!" shouted one boy. "But, my dad says yoo're a figure-head!"

"My mommy says yoo're a bumblin' idiot!" said another boy.

Laguna nodded. "They say that, huh? Well, tell them I said thanks. Okay?"

"Okay!" both said cheerily.

"Yoo don't look like yoo're a puppet!" said a girl accusingly. "I don't see any stwings!"

"Yeah; I left them back at the office," Laguna replied.

"Hey, why don't you kids let me talk to Mr. Laguna for a bit?" Ellone asked. "I'm sure Mr. Kiros and Mr. Ward will be happy to keep you company."

Laguna and Ellone stepped out into the hall as Kiros and Ward attempted to make sense of the storm of questions fired off by the children. "Now, of course I'm happy to see you," Ellone said once they were safely away from the others, "but what brought you down here all of a sudden?"

"Well, you know." Laguna unconsciously scratched the back of his neck. "I was just wonderin' how you were doing. I mean, I haven't seen you since you started working here, and I thought —"

"Come _on_, Uncle Laguna," Ellone interrupted, smiling. "You're a terrible liar. I could tell when I was four years old. Now what's the matter?"

"Really, I just wanted to see you!" But it was clear that Ellone wasn't buying it. Laguna sighed. "...You know, I always wished I'd gone back with you, to Winhill. But there are some days when I just can't stand it." He looked around nervously, a little worried that someone might be watching. "I mean, I stayed here because I thought I could help, but nowadays, I wonder if I'm making any difference at all."

"Anything in particular?" Ellone asked; then she frowned. "It's about Garden, isn't it?"

Laguna nodded. "I know I can help, but I can't even _ask_ the Parliament to try! I mean..." He shook his head. "His whole life, I haven't been able to do a single thing for him. Just once, I'd like to be able to help."

Ellone took his hand in hers. "Uncle Laguna, I know you want to do something for Squall, and I know how horrible you feel for not being there. But I also know that I've never met anyone more dedicated to doing the right thing than you. And I know you'll find a way. Just don't give up on yourself."

After a moment's pause, Laguna laughed. "You know, Elle, one of these days, I'm going to learn not to think of you as that little girl I knew back in Winhill."

Ellone smiled. "No, you won't."

"Mr. President!" The headmaster was hurrying down the hall, accompanied by a few other administrators. "We're having all the children gather in the auditorium, and if you'd just come for a few moments —"

"Right, sure," Laguna agreed, with a shrug at Ellone. "Catch you later, baby Elle."

She nodded. "You know where to find me, Uncle Laguna."

"Welcome to Galbadia's Deep Sea Research Center. I am Administrator Derrick. This is Colonel Graize, our chief of security and your superior for the duration of your presence here."

The nine SeeDs had been escorted from the airship to a meeting room in the facility's control tower. They now stood in a relatively well-furnished room which offered a view over much of the landing areas. Derrick stood behind a desk oriented perpendicular to the windows.

"The nature of our research here is classified, however I'm certain that some of you —" there was a rather pointed accent to the words, "— might think yourselves able to guess. So you might also understand our desire for personnel of your capabilities and training to maintain security here. Colonel Graize will inform you of the details."

Graize stepped forward, handing Squall a data tablet. "The details of your assignments are here. Note that you are restricted to only green- and yellow-level security zones. Entry into red-level zones without permission will result in immediate discharge from service, and entry into blue-level zones will most likely result in your death, one way or another." He scanned the faces of the SeeDs, especially the younger ones, as if hoping some of them had been particularly frightened by his words. Your duties will begin in one hour's time."

"You will now be shown to your rooms," said Derrick, tapping a button on his desk. "Dismissed."

A pair of Galbaidan soldiers escorted them to their rooms, which were down an elevator and a much less inviting hallway, and resembled those on the airship, though only large enough to house three persons each. After that, they were left alone.

"I'm still a bit lost on what we're supposed to be doing here," said Karenna, who had been placed in a room with Squall and Irvine.

"The way I read it," Irvine said, "these guys are scared that they won't be able to handle it if some of their experiments get loose, so we're being kept around to clean up any mess they make."

Karenna nodded. "Okay. And what does this mean for those of us who _haven't_ defeated a Weapon or fought through Time Compression?"

Irvine shrugged. "Well, you might still get your chance."

The door slid open to admit Quistis, who had been roomed across the hall. "Squall," she said, "I'm really concerned about all this. Galbadia must be restarting its GF experiments. You saw what they were able to do here before the facility was abandoned; what if they actually succeed this time?"

"I'm kind of worried about what'd happen if they _fail_ again," said Irvine.

"Either way, there's nothing we can do about it," said Squall. "We've got our assignments, and we're bound by contract. So, we have to abide by it, regardless of our personal opinions."

Quistis frowned at him. "Squall —"

"That's the way it is." Squall sat down on his cot, rummaging through his gear. "There's no point in discussing it."

Quistis and Irvine exchanged a glance, but neither attempted to continue the conversation. Quistis departed, and for a few minutes, Squall worked at unpacking. He finished quickly, not having brought much with him, and then lay back on the cot, staring up at the ceiling and tuning out anything that might remind him of the presence of others in the room.

_I could be stuck here for months,_ he thought. _First I'm trapped in Garden, unable to help Rinoa, and now I'm stuck here, away from both of them. Why the hell am I even doing this?_

He was on the first shift; so he couldn't allow himself to sleep. So, he simply lay on the cot, staring up at the ceiling for the remainder of the hour.


	14. Evil

Rinoa let out a soft moan as the electrical currents seared through her body. The pain was as agonizing as ever, but she could no longer work up the strength to scream.

"Have these samples taken to the analysis station in D-section," the doctor's voice said as the current abated. Rinoa attempted to open her eyes and see what he was referring to, but she could make out only a dark, indistinct blur.

"Yes, doctor." A pair of footsteps retreated away from her, and a door opened and closed, leaving her alone with the doctor once again. She could hear the click of his footsteps approaching her, and the tapping of his pen on a data recorder.

"It's interesting, isn't it?" he said. "When one sense becomes unavailable, the others become even more potent. Normally, it takes months for the body to accustom itself to this new way of functioning, but yours can adapt in a matter of moments. Your eyesight should return within an hour or two, by the way."

"How can you do this?" Rinoa croaked. "How can you do this to someone, and not feel all the pain that you cause?"

"Oh, I do apologize for the discomfort you must endure," he said. "Be certain that we are taking every possible precaution to ensure that you suffer no permanent injury."

"You could," Rinoa haltingly observed, "not do these things...in the first place."

"That would make it very difficult for us to gain the data we need," said the doctor. "I assure you, we have already explored every alternative that technology will allow." He began to walk away. "I can explain to you what it is we are doing, if you like."

"Just...stop it."

"At the moment, we're attempting to determine how your body reacts to various handicaps. So far, the data indicates that, within days of the injury, you will have adapted to the extent that you will barely be able to notice the loss. However, during that time, your mind is operating at a level of activity which is completely unheard of, save perhaps in a subject in the process of summoning a Guardian Force." He tapped something into his terminal. "The activity occurs entirely on the subconscious level. We're currently analyzing the data to collected to determine whether this activity produces any lasting psychological impact."

Rinoa attempted to speak again, but it came out only as a cough. After a moment spent gasping for air, she tried again.

"Why?" she uttered.

"Can't you guess?" The voice had an almost disappointed tone to it. "You know what you are. There is so much we don't understand about the nature of the Sorceress, and that ignorance has caused us no small amount of trouble. Your discomfort will give us the knowledge we need to protect our people from others like you."

"It's wrong," she insisted. "If you'd do such terrible things to people...you're the ones people should be protected from."

"Oh, really?" He now spoke with an ironic lilt. "The Sorceress, over the years, have killed millions, destroyed entire nations, and _I_ merit fear for the treatment I accord to one individual? What a selfish notion."

Rinoa tried to shake her head, but new waves of pain shot through her even as she tried. "That's just...just an excuse."

"Hardly. Once we understand the powers of the Sorceress, we will be able to devise means to counter them. I do not simply inflict this treatment upon you without cause or reason."

She couldn't build up the strength to reply.

Again, there was the tapping on his terminal. "Already, we have learned a great deal. It seems that becoming a Sorceress has considerably altered your physiology from that of a normal, non-magical individual. Technically, the case could be made that you aren't even human."

Rinoa coughed, a bit unsure herself what she had intended the outburst to be. "Neither are you," she whispered.

He laughed. It was harsh, mirthless utterance that made her want to cringe, but for how weak she felt. "That, my dear, is a matter of ethics, and ethics are a matter for priests and philosophers, folk who concern themselves with matters so intangible. I, on the other hand, am a scientist, and concern myself with more quantifiable assessments."

"You're a monster," she pressed, despite the throbbing pain in her throat which compounded every time she spoke. "You'll torture innocent people just to help your own goals."

"And where is this innocent person of whom you speak?" The doctor's voice was becoming harsher, as if her words had angered him. "Surely you can see the irony of what you say. How many Galbadians have died, my dear, so that you might further _your_ own goals? How many lives have you destroyed as part of your grand crusade?"

"T—That was different," Rinoa squeaked, caught off-guard by the relative fierceness of his accusation. "They were invaders. I was —"

"Invaders? Timber had been occupied a decade before you even heard of the place. There was no war there, save the one you started. And the soldiers whom you killed with your own hands were causing harm to no one. _You_ were the aggressor, not them. You cannot claim immunity because their deaths took place in a conflict you started."

"You burned the city!" she shouted; though the words came out as more of a muted squeal. "People died then! And so many others lost their homes!"

"And how many Galbadians had you killed by that point?" he retorted. "Think back. You and those SeeD mercenaries whom you hired to assist you; what did you want a team of combat specialists for, I wonder?"

Her outburst had once again drained her, and she was unable to speak. She could not immediately devise a reply in any case.

"And after that, what happened?" he asked. "As Galbadian labor rebuilt the city, your Forest Owls planted bombs, killed dozens more of our people. Do their deaths mean nothing?" He stepped toward her again. "You are a self-righteous terrorist, and a danger to all."

She could see him standing before him, an indistinct blob of white against the darkened background. She forced herself to raise her head, focusing on where he guessed his eyes to be. "You are evil," she said, making her voice to as forceful as she could manage under the circumstances. "And I _will_ stop you."

"Well then," the doctor replied. "I suppose that the feeling is mutual."

He walked away. She heard the door open and close, and she was left alone. Only as she let her body go limp against the restraints that held her to the wall did she realize how tense she had become, or how much her whole body was aching. It was these feelings that were foremost in her mind as what light she could make out faded from her vision, and she slipped into a limbo between the conscious world and the next.


	15. Obstructions

The Galbadian fast cruiser _NR-447_ was speeding south along the Timber coast; according to their projected course, they should be passing under the Horizon Bridge about now. Not that Keri or the other SeeDs could tell; they had been given a work center located belowdecks and far removed from any means of monitoring the space outside the ship, save for the wholly unsatisfying image provided by the radar display. With banks of computer terminals lining the walls and a long table in the center, the room was painfully claustrophobic as well, barely offering enough room for the four to move around.

"...Looks like the pirates were hiding off the Winhill coast," Mara said, scanning over the reports on the previous attempts to eliminate the pirates. "A patrol skimmer from the Southern Fleet stumbled across them, but they made a run South, and the Galbadians lost them in Centra Crater."

"Wait a minute," Sean said. "That means they'd have had to run all the way across the Meridian Sea! How could they do that?"

"Whatever ship they're in must be able to outrun the Galbadian pursuit craft," said Keri.

"The report says the Galbadians tried to set up an ambush," read Mara, "but the pirates managed to slip away. Scouts and airships have been searching all through the crater, but they haven't found anything."

Keri scanned over a map of the crater. "The terrain there is very rough; I can see how they'd be able to avoid the patrols. Airships, though; that's hard."

"Well, Galbadia doesn't have many long-range airships," Mara said. "And most of the ones they do use are transports, not scouts. The coverage probably wasn't that complete."

"Do you have the specific search patterns for the Galbadian forces?" Keri asked.

"Sure. It's in the computer."

Keri began to scan through the computer files, and for a few moments there was no sound but the humming tone of the machinery. Then, Sean spoke up. "There's something messed up about this," he said. "I mean, what the hell would these pirates be hanging around Winhill for in the first place? All the major shipping goes on up north, by Dollet."

Keri shrugged. "Maybe they were already on the run from Galbadia, and they got chased down that way."

"If that's what happened, the report doesn't say anything about it," Mara replied. "As a matter of fact, it doesn't mention anything prior to the scout finding them off Winhill."

"Maybe that report only has data from the Southern Fleet," suggested Keri. "So that information is somewhere else, because another part of the Navy was handling it."

"Could be," Mara admitted. "I think I'm gonna check for that."

"And another thing," Sean pressed. "What makes these pirates so special, anyway? I mean, that report's talking about how the Galbadians are sending whole task groups after these guys; that seems a bit much for a few sea bandits."

Tavin, who had previously been flipping through another copy of the Galbadians' report, now snapped it shut with a fair measure of annoyance. "Are you ever gonna say something useful?" he demanded. "What does it matter who these pirates are, or what they were doing down south? All we need to know is where they are and how to take them out."

Sean looked rather irritated himself. "Hey, why do _you_ have so much of a problem with me? I don't see you contributing any great thoughts to this discussion!"

Keri groaned. "Both of you, _shut up_. This isn't helping anything."

"Don't talk to your commander like that," Tavin snapped. "Anyway, it's not our job to waste time asking stupid questions. Keep your focus where it belongs."

As he said the last sentence, the door slid open, and a man in a Galbadian naval uniform walked in. Keri recalled that he had been the Intelligence officer who had shown them to the room and provided the reports on the pirates. "Excellent advice," he said. "Well, how have things been going so far?"

"You don't expect results already, do you?" Keri asked. "We've barely been here for half an hour."

"Oh, of course not," he said. "I simply wanted to make sure you have everything you need from us, and if not, see if there was anything else I could do." He looked around expectantly.

"We were just wondering if you have any information on your pursuit of the pirates before you found them south of Winhill," Mara said. "If we knew more about what tactics they use, it could help us predict their next move."

The Intelligence officer nodded. "Of course. But I'm afraid all the information we haven't already given you has been classified; no non-military personnel are allowed to view it. But, I'd be happy to offer my own interpretations, if you're having trouble with anything."

"Wait a second," said Tavin. "You guys hired us to find these pirates. You don't think it might be a bit easier if you weren't withholding information from us?"

"I'm sorry, but it's official policy," the officer said. "No nonmilitary personnel. Again, I have clearance, and I'll gladly share with you anything I deem pertinent."

"If that's the way you want to play it, why don't you do all this yourself?" Tavin demanded. "You don't keep your bloodhounds on a leash, okay?"

The officer held up his hands. "I completely agree. But those are the rules, and we're not allowed to make exceptions. I'll help you out in any way I can, but there are certain procedural restrictions that we can't just ignore." He shrugged. "Besides, how much difference does it make where the pirates were before? Your job is to find where they are _now_."

Tavin narrowed his eyes at the man, but gave a curt nod. "Fine," he said. "So we'll just get back to work, then."

"Is there any way I can help you?" asked the officer.

"Doesn't look like it." Tavin picked up another folder and began flipping through it, paying no more attention to the Galbadian.

Apparently taking the hint, the officer nodded. "Well, I'll stop by again later to see about your progress." With a pleasant smile, he turned and left.

"Beauraucratic rockheads," Tavin grumbled.

"Hey," said Sean, "What difference does it make, right? We don't question the rules, we just do our job and follow orders. Right?" His mocking tone was enough to make Keri wince.

Tavin glared at him angrily. "You think you're really smart, don't you? Well, listen to this, you little —"

"_Guys_," Keri said exasperatedly. "We _do_ have a job to do. If the Galbadians aren't going to help us, we could at least help each other."

The two boys glared at each other a moment longer. "You respect my authority," Tavin instructed, then turned away to busy himself with work.

"Yes, _sir_." Sean made an exaggerated salute. Mercifully, Tavin ignored him.

Keri sighed. Were all her missions going to turn out like this?


	16. Predicament

So far, the nine SeeDs' posting on the Deep Sea Research Center had proven thankfully devoid of danger. The hope that they could make it through the entire assignment without encountering any giant monsters from the ancient world was enough to prevent Karenna from complaining about how excruciatingly dull it was also proving to be.

Of course, they'd only been on the facility for one full day, but it felt like they had been trapped in the claustrophobic triple quarters for weeks. When off-duty, they were forbidden even to venture beyond the hall directly outside their rooms, save during the three dining hours when they were escorted to a slightly larger but equally claustrophobic mess hall. And then back to their rooms.

At least on the airship, they had been going somewhere.

Karenna was just finishing her third Triple Triad game against herself; Irvine was out on patrol and Squall was in his customary position, lying in his bed and facing the wall. The game looked like it was going to be a draw.

The door slid open. Karenna's boredom by this point had spilled over into physical drowsiness, so it took her a moment to look over. She couldn't quite bring herself to look up, so at first all she saw were a pair of black boots and the matching pants of a SeeD uniform.

A moment later, she scrambled to her feet. "Paige, hi!" she exclaimed, a surge of energy running through her as she finally identified her friend and possible temporary solution to the boredom problem. "Did you just get off your shift?"

"Yeah," the other girl nodded, taking a seat on Karenna's bunk. "They had me walking back and forth down the same hall for _hours_. And so far, I haven't seen anyone down there at all except the guard who comes to relieve me. I have no idea what I'm even supposed to be looking out for."

Karenna nodded sympathetically. "Well, at least you get to walk around. My assignment so far has been to stand outside of a door for six hours straight."

"Wanna trade?" Paige asked. "I feel like my legs are gonna fall off."

Smiling, Karenna glanced at the still motionless form of their Commander in the bed. "Let's talk in the hall," she whispered. "It's weird enough when he's in here and _none_ of us are talking."

Paige groaned at the prospect of abandoning her newfound seat, but assented to the idea of getting away from the Commander's possibly sleeping form. The two of them stepped out of the room, drawing a look from the guard at the end of the hall; but he didn't seem particularly interested in the SeeDs or much of anything else, and left them alone once it was clear they weren't going anywhere. The girls sat down on opposite sides of the hall, Paige stretching out her legs as soon as she did so.

"So," Karenna began. "What do you think of your first mission as a member of SeeD?"

Paige shook her head. "I don't even know why this counts as a mission. I mean, it's just like we're on regular guard duty. Why would Galbadia want to hire SeeDs for a job like this anyway?"

"I was wondering about that too," Karenna agreed. "I mean, they've gotta be paying us a lot for how little we're doing here. Doesn't seem like a really smart move for _them_, either."

"It seems like there's gotta be something really dangerous that they want us to be guarding against," Paige said. "I mean, this is the Battleship Island and all, so who knows what they're doing down here?"

Karenna nodded. "See, though, I've been thinking. And I've been really bored so far, so I've been doing a _lot_ of thinking. If we're out here to guard against some nasty experiment gone wrong, why do they have us spread out through the whole facility like they do, with single patrols and all that? It'd make more sense to just keep us all around the one place where the experiments are being done or whatever."

The other SeeD frowned as she considered this. "Good point. It seems like they're more expecting an attack or an infiltration or something."

"Yeah, except they don't have any of us watching the upper levels, or any of the ways someone could actually get onto the facility. And this place is way too big for our patrols to cover everything, anyway." She shrugged, wrapping her arms around her legs. "My idea is they don't really want us to do _anything_ here. I mean, look at the SeeDs they call up. Everyone who was on the Ultimecia campaign is on this mission; no way that's some weird coincidence. I think they just want to get all those guys out of the way."

"But what for?" Paige asked, frowning.

Karenna shrugged again. "Dunno. Who knows what goes on in bureaucrats' heads?"

Paige nodded, though her expression indicated that the concept rather troubled her. "It's kind of scary either way," she said. "I mean, there's all those SeeDs who've been through Time Compression and beaten Weapons and stuff, and then there's us, kind of just along for the ride. What if something happens that we can't handle?"

"I try not to think about that," Karenna replied. "It really is kind of a scary idea, but I figure there's no getting out of it now, so we might as well just find a way to deal with whatever happens."

"I wish I could think like that," said Paige, sighing. "I really don't even know what I was thinking when I became a SeeD. I used to get scared just _thinking_ about being out on these missions; what made me think I could handle actually being sent out on one?"

"Hey, you weren't the only one who thought you could," Karenna reminded her. "I mean, the Faculty and Headmaster Xu must've signed off on it too, or you'd never have graduated. Plus, I saw you during the field exam; you _can_ handle yourself in a fight."

"I was almost scared silly during that exam," Paige protested. "And that was just a bunch of monsters, when I knew other SeeDs were there to back me up."

Karenna stood and crossed the hall to sit down beside her friend. "Hey," she said, lowering her voice to a softer tone. "It's not like you're alone out here, either. I mean, you're on a team with probably the best six SeeDs ever to go through Garden. What else can you ask for? I mean besides, y'know, another assignment in someplace like Dollet..."

Paige giggled. "Oh, you had to give me _that_ idea."

"Oh, come on. I know you were thinking about it."

The other girl sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. "You know, we should totally get enough money from this job that we can take one of the ferries to Dollet, or the train to Timber, and just go crazy."

"Oh, yeah," Karenna agreed. "We could hit the casinos and the Central Square...thing is, though, the Galbadians won't let you drink until you're 21."

"That occupation is _totally_ ruining our lives," quipped Paige.

Karenna shrugged. "Well, you'd have to bring the boyfriend along, and he'd probably ruin all our fun anyway."

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the artificial hum of the air-circulation system. The guard at the end of the hall shifted his position slightly, and his boots made a slight clicking sound on the floor.

"We are so totally in over our heads," Paige said at length.

"Yeah," Karenna agreed. "Totally."


	17. Waking Dream

**June 8**

Squall lurched back to consciousness, nearly banging his head against the bunk above him. It took him a moment to gain his bearings; he was alone in the room assigned to him by the Galbadians, just as he had been when he had drifted off to sleep. Nonetheless, his forehead was throbbing, and his mind was screaming at him that something had changed.

He'd been having a dream. Even now, it was replaying itself in his mind, as some strange echo of the original, which itself had echoed a memory he didn't have. He was back in the Lunatic Pandora, except he was Seifer this time, casting Rinoa to the floor before Adel's tomb as the Sorceress' claw-like hands strained to reach her, then stood and watched as the two women merged into a single, terrible being even worse than before. Except he hadn't been Seifer. He had been himself, Squall, and he had pushed Rinoa to her doom.

There had been other images as well, other memories distorted by the dream. At times, he'd had Seifer's role, standing with Rinoa on the parade float in Deling City, gunblade held high; or he had been himself, as he chased after her through outer space but she always remained just out of reach. And there was more that he could not recall in his conscious mind, that manifested only as a feeling that he could not shake. He awoke breathless, and his heart was pounding, and something of the dream had remained within his mind.

Her. Rinoa. A feeling of urgency had settled into the base of his consciousness, and he realized that a part of his dream, the part he could not clearly remember, had not been a dream at all, and the preoccupation that had ever increased since he learned of her capture was more than any simple concern. He could _feel_ her, somehow, calling to him. He couldn't explain the sensation, but there was no one around to query him about it anyway. The back of his left hand pressed to his forehead, he stood from the bunk and stepped out of the room.

During the duties that the Galbadians had assigned him to, Squall had at least gained the presence of mind to determine the basic layout of the facility, from maps and floor plans when he could find them and from his own travels through the halls. He walked up to the Galbadian soldier who stood guard beside the lift and quite calmly neutralized him with a Sleep spell before the other man even knew what was happening. Then he carefully relieved the man of the key card he had seen used to operate the lifts, and applied it to the door at the end of the hall. Moments later, a lift arrived, and Squall stepped inside. As the polished-metal door slid closed, he dimly noted that his reflection was wearing casual clothes, rather than the slightly more innocuous SeeD uniform. He found he didn't care.

Here was the first time where he truly had to think about what he was doing. The problem was that, while he was certain he had to go _somewhere_, he was very unsure as to exactly where that would be, or if it was within this facility at all, or this hemisphere for that matter. It didn't help that the majority of the levels did not seem to be marked with number labels, having instead only a strip of color.

A single word came into Squall's mind: _Down._ Since he was currently on one of the levels that _was_ numbered, he simply chose the lowest level he could and inserted the key card. He found that none of the non-numbered levels would accept his key card anyway, so he ended up only going down to Level Fifteen, but he was certain this took him in the proper direction at least.

Level Fifteen looked nearly identical to the level he had left, with the difference that it had fallen into considerable disrepair. Judging by the amount of debris strewn around, the level had probably been flooded at one point, and no one had yet bothered to repair it beyond pumping out the water. Only about half the fluorescent lights lined along the ceiling were functioning, and these just barely. All the doors were closed, locked, and probably rusted shut as well. Fortunately for Squall, it was also quite deserted.

Hoping the layout of this level was indeed the same as the one he had come from, Squall crossed to the other end of the hall and checked the door there, which ought to provide access to the stairwell. As the label had faded to the point of illegibility, he could only assume he'd got it right. This decided, he set to the task of forcing the door open, which proved to be quite a difficult one. The automatic controls would not respond, and the heavy metal panel did not seem receptive to the idea of being slid aside manually. Squall considered attacking it with his gunblade, but then remembered that he had left the weapon back in his room. Rather than take this as evidence of how thoughtless and probably stupid his actions were, he closed his eyes, rearranged his junctions to improve his Magic power, and took several steps back. At his command, a bright green fireball appeared at the center of the door, erupting into a brilliant explosion that quite successfully vaporized much of the barrier. Resisting the urge to cough at the ionized air produced by the blast, Squall carefully stepped through the newly made hole, being certain not to come into contact with the faintly glowing edges.

There was indeed a stairwell behind the door, leading up and down as far as Squall cared to look. Despite the fact that the stairs were glistening wet with water dripping down from above and didn't look in particularly good condition otherwise either, he immediately set off downwards, hand tightly gripping the slippery rail.

The trip down the dark, wet stairwell might have seemed frightening, had he been in a different state of mind; the constant dripping of the water, the flickering lights and confined space certainly created a rather foreboding environment. However to Squall's mind, the only emotion he could identify was impatience. He _had_ to reach the bottom of these stairs, and only the possibility of losing his footing and falling head over heels for the majority of his descent prevented him from sprinting down them.

He made his way down the stairs in something between a matter of minutes and hours, and past more floors than he bothered to count. Finally, as he was passing one level, he realized first that he was no longer being compelled to go down, and second that the door he had been about to pass by bore a light across the top that was both more advanced than the simple fluorescent bulbs he had been seeing so far and clearly running at full power. Also, this level's door-control panel appeared to be lit and functioning.

As Squall tapped the panel, the door slid open without hesitation, revealing a well-lit hall framed with blue-white walls rather than the stark metal he had so far encountered. As he stepped into the hall, Squall was given a sharp warning about his methods when he caught sight of a figure disappearing into a doorway, who would have certainly spotted the SeeD had he emerged from the stairwell half a second earlier.

Squall now stood at the meeting point of a T-intersection between two halls. Turning left, he ventured past a series of doors marked only by numbers that naturally bore no meaning to him. As he turned right at a corner, he thought he could hear a door opening behind him and a set of footsteps making their way along the hall in his direction, but found himself not particularly caring. The footsteps faded away, however, without ending in any shouts or alarms, so he guessed that he had either imagined them, or whoever it was hadn't been coming his way after all.

A moment later, Squall's feet involuntarily froze as he stood before a door marked **28454**. The number he found to be completely meaningless, however, he found himself unable to move past it. Whatever force had driven him on this adventure was now telling him that he had reached his destination. Resolving therefore to open the door and check inside, he discovered that his hand was shaking as he reached up to activate the control. Steeling himself, he clenched his fist and punched the button to open the door.

Rather than sliding open, however, the door gave a harsh buzz and the text **LOCK #6 – ACCESS DENIED** appeared on the tiny panel. More than a little annoyed about the anticlimactic result, Squall struck the control again, with the same result. He took a step back, and was considering the implications of applying an Ultima spell to the uncooperative doorframe when it chose to slide open after all. Squall's surprise at the development was quite likely matched by that of the young man dressed in a white lab coat who stood on the other side, with his hand frozen over the door control on the inside of the room.

For a second, the two stared at each other, unsure quite how to react. Then Squall, who decided it would be best not to let the Galbadian make the first move, charged forward, catching the man off-guard, spinning him around and throwing him against the wall. The Galbadian, clearly not combat-trained and quite stunned by the move, remained with his back to the wall as Squall hit the control to close the door.

"Don't move," Squall commanded, giving the other man a harsh glare to enforce the point. He took a cursory glance around the room to ensure that no one else was there to cause trouble; but this examination never made it across the entire room, as his attention became fixed on the wall to his right.

He was in some sort of laboratory, where a long table separated the room about in half. The bare metal walls and naked fluorescent lights gave the room a very unrefined, utilitarian atmosphere, which reminded Squall particularly of the room where Seifer had tortured him in the D-District prison.

This impression was emphasized by the fact that a dark-haired girl was hanging strapped to the far wall, apparently unconscious, with a host of electrodes and intravenous tubes running into her body. Her ordeal had so transformed her appearance that Squall at first only recognized her by the familiar black dress that hung from her shoulders.

For a long moment, the sight held him completely stunned, his other surroundings forgotten. The man in the lab coat scrambled out the door as Squall almost drunkenly stumbled towards the figure who seemed to hover in front of him. He felt as if he had completely lost touch with his consciousness and lapsed into another dream; even as he came to stand right in front of her, he could not quite accept the information being given by his eyes. He attempted to utter her name, but his voice caught in his throat.

The door slid open once again, pulling Squall out of his trance and quickly reminding him of the gravity of the situation. He spun around to see that a middle-aged man, dressed in a lab coat like the scientist who had run out earlier, was now standing in the doorway. This man, however, was notably taller, with a stern face and an expression both harsh and neutral. He did not seem surprised at all to see the commander of SeeD facing him down.

The two simply stared at each other for a moment. Then, the Galbadian let out a sigh. "This will quite complicate things, I'm afraid," he said.


	18. Lost and Found

It was a moment before Squall could bring himself to speak. Not only was his mind caught without words, but his body seemed to have entered a state of rebellion. He was trembling, and his chest felt so tight that he could hardly breathe. However, ultimately an unconscious element of the self-control he had been taught as a SeeD began to assert itself, and Squall just barely regained the ability to assemble coherent thoughts.

"What have you done to her?" he demanded, fighting to keep his voice level and generally failing.

"We're examining the manner in which her physiology and mental patterns differ from those of ordinary humans," the doctor replied cooly, stepping into the room and permitting the door to close. "It's a groundbreaking study, and the first time a Sorceress has been subjected to such investigation. Our results so far have been quite enlightening."

"Let her go," Squall ordered, advancing toward him in a fiercely menacing manner. "Let her go _right now._"

"I'm afraid that removal of the subject would have rather negative ramifications for our research," replied the doctor with the same level, detached tone of voice. "Therefore, I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. Perhaps my government might consider that option once the study is complete, though she faces a long list of charges for crimes against the state, so I can't make any guarantees."

Squall paused for a moment, his mind attempting to take him in a dozen different directions at once; then he violently shook his head to get his thoughts back on track. "I don't care about that. Let her go. I'm not leaving without her."

The doctor shook his head. "Again, that's simply not an acceptable solution to this issue. Indeed, I think the best thing for both of us would be for you to return to your quarters and remain there as ordered."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Squall snapped.

Still unfazed, the doctor raised his eyebrows. "Considering you seem to suffer no such restraint with your commands to _me_ —"

"Shut up!" Squall charged a few more steps toward the man, barely reining in the urge to tackle him.

"Consider your situation for a moment," said the doctor, his persistent calm beginning to wear on Squall's already mangled nerves. "My assistant has already sounded an alarm; a contingent of guards will be here in moments to apprehend you simply for seeing foot in this section of the facility. That offense will certainly be compounded should you assault a Galbadian citizen. And I doubt that even a SeeD of your abilities would be able to fight off the whole of the Galbadian guard contingent without even a weapon. And even if you could, think of the ramifications your actions would hold if, as a representative of Garden, you were to act against us here."

The small part of Squall's mind that was still devoted to thinking rationally informed him that the scientist's assessment was correct. Unable to contain the storm of emotion conflicting within him, but also restrained from taking it out on the most obvious target, he slammed his fist into the table with an exclamation of frustrated rage. Turning away from the doctor's impassive form, he paced in a short circle, his right hand pressed to his forehead so hard that it would have certainly caused him a throbbing headache had one not already been present.

_Think,_ he told himself. _Be in control. Don't let this bastard play you like this._

"How can you do this?" he demanded. "She's a human being! Don't you have any conscience?"

"Conscience is often more bothersome than useful," the man replied. "I deal with matters of science, not ethics. My orders are to examine the Sorceress, and I endeavor to comply."

"Examine?" Squall repeated. "This is torture! How can you possibly justify that?"

"My methods," he said, "are the only means by which conclusions can be reached regarding the nature of the Sorceress's power." He fixed Squall with an appraising look. "Certainly you are sufficiently well versed in history to understand what a danger that power can pose? You have _lived_ through one of the most potent examples."

"That's no excuse!" insisted Squall. "She's a human being, not some lab rat you can do with as you please!"

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I've observed that the level of significance a person places on another's humanity is quite arbitrary. Tell me — when you took the lives of Galbadian soldiers on the battlefield, what consideration did _you_ give to their status as human beings?" A slight edge crept into the doctor's voice with this question.

Squall shook his head. "She's not a soldier," he insisted. "You aren't on a battlefield. Don't compare that to what I have to do."

"Why not?" the doctor pressed. "She _is_ a soldier, should she wear a uniform or not. Dozens of Galbadian soldiers have been killed attempting to prevent her acts of terrorism, and if we do not devise a means to contain her powers, there will be many more deaths in the future. You know this to be true, but you don't consider it relevant because you are only concerned with the suffering of those whom you personally know." He fixed Squall with a harsh, piercing glare. "Your claim to ethical superiority is false. It's simply a question of whose life you value more."

Squall shook his head, trying to dislodge the doctor's words; but his mind seemed unwilling to let go, and the accusation continued to echo about his ears. The spell was finally broken when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight once again of the body that hung limp from the wall, barely identifiable as alive. This reminder provided him with all the clarity of thought he needed.

"Let her go, _NOW_!" he screamed, advancing toward the doctor once again.

For the first time, the doctor seemed surprised at the ferocity of Squall's outburst. Nonetheless, he remained unmoved. "No," he declared, calmly as ever.

The doors opened to admit a trio of Galbadian Elite Soldiers, who entered with their weapons aimed directly at Squall. "What's going on in here?" demanded one, apparently the leader.

"Commander Leonhart seems to have stumbled away from his post," Vaider explained. "See that he finds his way back to his quarters, if you please."

The soldier nodded to his two companions, who moved to flank the SeeD. "If you'll come with us, sir?" he said, not quite lowering his weapon.

Jaw clenched, Squall looked from the Galbadian soldiers to the doctor, to the prone form hanging from the wall. He knew that he could not fight off three armed soldiers without his gunblade, and certainly not the countless others who would stand between him and any escape if he tried. However, his objections to the action he knew he needed to take were enough to paralyze him for a long moment, before he nodded and surrendered to the guards.

With one leading in front and two behind him, the three soldiers took him back out of the lab. Before passing out of sight, however, the SeeD turned to direct a smoldering glare back at the Galbadian scientist, and to dedicate both his features and the room's location to memory.

The guard in the hall had been doubled, and now the door was locked to any who didn't possess a Galbadian keycard; the Galbadians had, of course, reclaimed the one Squall had taken from the guard. Both the room's other occupants were off somewhere, and Squall had been pacing back and forth across the room for the better part of an hour, his mind mimicking the path of his body as he paced along in the same circle over and over again.

_She's here. She's alive. I know where she is. I can get there again. I can help her. I can get her out of this place, away from these bastards. I can save her._

_I'm in the middle of the ocean, on a Galbadian base filled with Galbadian soldiers. They'll be on guard for any moves I make. I can't beat them all. They'll stop me. I'd be helpless against them._

_They won't stop me. I can't let them stop me. She's so close; I can't just stand by! I have to act. I have to do something. Anything. I can't stay in here. I need out. Let me out!_

It wasn't until he felt the blunt pain from his gloved fist striking the door that he realized he had been vocalizing at least the last part of his inner monologue. Bringing the hand to his forehead, he staggered back to his bunk and curled up on the mattress, his body shaking uncontrollably. _Get a grip!_ he commanded himself. _You're not going to help anybody like this!_

Despite at least managing to rein in his thoughts, Squall was not quite able to slow down his heart or relax his nerves. His continued attempts toward these goals were interrupted some time later by the door. Emitting a harsh _beep_, it slid open to show a Galbadian soldier and Karenna standing outside. The latter figure entered the room as Squall jumped to his feet, and the door slid closed.

"What's with the extra security all of a sudden?" the younger SeeD asked. "Since when did we lose the clearance to go into our own rooms?"

Squall didn't reply, making a last-ditch effort to compose himself that met with partial success. However, the oddity of his behavior was clearly not lost on Karenna, though she didn't immediately comment on it.

"So is this the kind of job SeeD's commander usually gets sent out on?" she asked. "I'm only asking 'cause it kinda seems we could have sent the Galbadians nine Moombas in SeeD uniforms and it wouldn't really have made any difference, for all the really hard work we're getting put to."

_Stop talking._ Squall didn't find himself in a condition to carry on any sort of conversation; Karenna's interruption had derailed his train of thought, and his mind was now even more of a jumbled mess than before.

Having sat down on her bunk, Karenna was watching Squall as he cast about the room without clearly knowing what it was he was looking for. "Sorry," she said, "but I can't help but get this kind of bad feeling when I'm locked in a room with a guy who looks like he's being possessed. Are you okay?"

"Fine." Squall bit out the response without giving any other attention to the inquirer. His efforts to exert some degree of control over his body and mind were proving partially successful, and he lowered himself onto his own bunk with his eyes directed at the floor.

After a few moments had passed and he had at least brought his body under control, he became aware that the other SeeD was watching him. At first he ignored her; however as time passed he became increasingly bothered by the treatment. Eventually, it came to the point where he almost wished she would actually say or do something, instead of simply staring at him.

"What?" he finally demanded, glaring back at her.

She shrugged. "It's no big deal."

Squall, having found something to focus on, continued to glare at her.

"Well, you asked." Karenna laid back in her bunk, staring up at the bunk above instead of at Squall. "You're really kind of larger than life back at Garden, you know? Ever since I came here, I've been hearing stories about you, and your campaign to beat Ultimecia and all that. Then I saw you for the first time, a couple weeks before the SeeD exam, when you were getting breakfast in the cafeteria. What got me was, aside from the fact that you were the only person in the room who had a whole table to yourself, you didn't really seem all that special. I mean, you acted just like any other guy I'd see walking around Garden. Really, if anything you acted more like someone stuck in a dark back alley than Garden's greatest hero."

She glanced back at Squall, whose thoughts, unable to decide on a reaction to her words, had decided to default on the activity altogether. "I guess it kind of got me thinking," she continued. "I mean, you're only a year older than I am, and we both graduated with the same SeeD rank. But some crazy turn of events on your first assignment made you the commander of Garden and the savior of the universe. I guess that would probably be enough to put _me_ off in my own little world, too." Again, she looked at him, rising up to lean on one arm so as to extend the glance. "But that's not really it, is it? I mean, between the rumors at Garden and what Quistis has told me, I know there's something going on with you and the Sorceress."

Squall involuntarily tensed a the mention of "the Sorceress". Now, Karenna's monologue had gone from mildly annoying to disturbing, and he almost felt compelled to cut her off. It was mainly the fact that she paused for a moment after that particular comment and lost the opportunity that he did not.

"I came to Balamb from Trabia Garden, you know," she said, following the pause. "Transferred here last fall, once I knew T-Garden wouldn't be ready to reopen for this year. All my friends stayed to help rebuild the Garden, but I didn't want to wait another year before taking the SeeD exam." She shrugged. "I guess the reason was my brother. He was a few years older than me, and became a SeeD...oh, four years ago now." She paused again, closing her eyes and making a quiet sigh. "He died last year in the battle with Galbadia Garden. It was a tough thing to hear, especially after all the people I lost in the missile raid on Trabia. If it weren't for my friends, I don't know how I would've got through it."

Squall had now been the one to stare at her for quite some time, though he was not aware of a single coherent thought that had run through his head during that time.

"I guess the moral of the story is, we all lose people," Karenna said. "I just couldn't quite get why you losing someone gave you the basic personality of a Tonberry. Which is what I was thinking about when you asked me why I was staring at you." Flopping back on the bed, she fished around for a book and opened it up, apparently ready to consider the matter finished. "So, there you go."

Squall was still wondering what to make of the past two minutes when the door beeped, and slid open to reveal a Galbadian soldier. "Commander Leonhart," he said. "You're to follow me to your duty station, sir."

Nodding slowly, Squall rose, retrieved his gunblade and took a moment to see that his GF were properly equipped before he followed the guard out of the door. They walked the short distance down the hall, past the two other soldiers, and to the lift. Squall, his head still swimming in the jumble of thought and feeling, finally found a single thought to focus on.

_I won't lose her._

The lift door slid open, and Squall stepped in with his escort. The doors slid closed. Than, the soldier withdrew his keycard to declare the destination, and Squall, with all the speed his training and his GF could give him, lashed out, retrieving the keycard in one quick motion and delivering a sharp blow to the man's head with the next. He didn't fall immediately, but another hard chop to the neck was enough to render him unconscious.

_They aren't going to take her away from me,_ he thought. _We've been through too much. I can't lose her now._

He inserted the keycard at Level Six, and the lift whirred into motion. The ride seemed bumpier this time, but he realized that there was a good chance that it was he, not the elevator, who was doing most of the shaking.

_I'm coming, Rinoa,_ he silently pledged, tightly gripping the hilt of his gunblade. _I'm coming._


	19. Boiling Point

Squall retraced his steps downward as if in a trance, with his body moving independent of his mind's control. It didn't bother him; his thoughts were coming into focus again, and he was busy planning ahead for the actions he would have to take once he reached the destination that he knew his legs would take him to.

He navigated the stairs down to the proper level without interference, and briskly strode down the corridor, retracing his path from memory. Though he probably made much better time than he had during his first trip, the walk seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, he came again to the door, paying only enough attention to the two armed guards stationed outside as was necessary to knock them both out by way of an Ultima stone. He reached the door and had already inserted the keycard before he remembered that it wouldn't work.

As he came to this realization, he also noticed that an alarm klaxon had begun to sound.

"_Security alert,"_ declared a voice from the intercom. _"High magic discharge on Level 13. Initiating full security lockdown."_ With those words, the lights went off, and the hall was plunged into near-total darkness.

Squall closed his eyes, trying to work his way through the problem as rationally as he could. Security would be coming. They'd probably need a minute or two to get there; he had that long. The door certainly wouldn't open for him now; though as it wouldn't before, that wasn't a major development. His main goal was to get that door open; he'd deal with the rest later.

Taking a step back, he took a breath and called on the reserves of magic he carried through his GF. _**Triple,**_ he silently declared, and paused as the aura surrounded his body. Doing his best not to be disoriented too long by the new level this gave to his consciousness, he opened his eyes, and forced them to focus in the dim light of the emergency lamps on the tough metal doors in front of him, then on an imaginary point just beyond them.

_**Demi. Demi. Demi.**_

He couldn't see the black vortices forming, one after the other, on the other side of the door, but he could hear the protests of the metal as it was forcibly twisted out of shape. By the second spell, he thought he could see it noticeably buckling; and by the third, the door was very nearly pulled free. Squall considered for a moment deploying another spell to finish it off; but instead, he backed up to the far side of the corridor, braced himself, and charged. His shoulder connected hard with the door, which in turn fell freely off its frame, making a dramatic crash when it struck the floor.

It was just as dark inside the lab as in the corridor, if not more so. He could only barely make out her form, illuminated by the faint, red light of some display or other on the wall to which she was secured. He made straight for her, nearly tripping over the table in the process. The restraints, he saw, were fairly simple metal cuffs such as those by which he had been held in the D-District Prison, held together by heavy pins but not actually locked in any way.

"It's all right," he said softly as he began to remove the electrodes and intravenous tubes that had been attached to her body, then worked to open the cuffs on her hands. "Rinoa, it's me. It's Squall. I'm going to get you out of here."

With the cuffs open, her arms hung limp and she began to fall. Squall caught her, supporting her weight as he worked to free her legs. She was a great deal lighter than he had expected.

"Squall," she whispered, as he lowered her to the floor of the lab, to examine her and make sure he would be able to move her. Being as it was still very dark inside, he had to resort to Scan magic to make the determination; while she was not physically injured, her body was very weak and she seemed just on the edge of consciousness.

"Great Hyne," he muttered, shaking his head. "What did they _do_ to you?"

As he was preparing to pick her up again and make their escape, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching outside. He stood and quickly readied his gunblade before a trio of Galbadian troops, headed up by the square-shouldered silhouette of an Elite Soldier, appeared to challenge him.

"Hold it!" exclaimed the leader, readying his weapon; but the words had barely escaped his mouth before Squall, already lunging forward, cut halfway through the man's neck with a horizontal swing of his blade. The other two jumped away, one readying his sword and the other apparently preparing to cast a magic attack; a good strategy, but Squall was quicker than both of them. A trio of Thundagas, necessarily split unevenly between the two, nonetheless sent both to the floor.

Barely waiting to make sure both were finished, Squall hurried back to Rinoa, who still lay prone where he had left her. "I'm still here," he assured her, hoisting her onto his back in the manner he had perfected a year earlier during his trek across the Horizon Bridge. "Come on, Rinoa," he encouraged softly, hoping for perhaps a little help from her in holding on this time, but getting no measurable result. "Let's get out of here."

Quistis had been near the end of her shift, policing an unmarked corridor on Level Three, when the alarm began to ring. At first, coming as a sharp contrast to the pervading dullness that had previously been the hallmark of the assignment, she had failed to register just what the siren meant. Then, Galbadian soldiers began running past, paying little or no heed to her as they hurried off apparently to the site of some crisis. She had to step directly into the path of a passing officer in order to get the man's attention.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

The Galbadian gave her a look that expressed some mixture of annoyance and suspicion. "There's an intruder!" he snapped, forcing his way around her and off down the hall.

"What?" Quistis asked, but the man did not seem inclined to elaborate. Shaking her head with annoyance, she withdrew the pocket radio she had been given by the Galbadians and activated the communications link to the base's security control center. "This is Trepe on Level Two, Section..." she glanced around for the wall sign that would tell her where she was. "Four-Alpha. Request appraisal of the situation."

There was a brief pause. _"Stand by,"_ the radio eventually replied, before lapsing into an even longer pause.

After a time, Quistis tired of standing by. "Control, this is Trepe," she began again. "What is going _on_ here?"

Another moment passed before the radio crackled once more. _"Intruder on lower levels, Trepe,"_ the voice explained. _"Hold position and await further instructions."_

Quistis nodded, less than happily. _In other words, stay out of your way. Even out here, they want to keep us on the sidelines._

A moment later, she was approached by another set of running feet as Zell, apparently having not received the order to hold his position, bounded around the corner of the hall. "Hey!" he called. "What's goin' on? These Galbadians aren't tellin' me a thing!"

"All I know is that there's some intruder down on the lower levels," Quistis replied. "They want us to hold position while they take care of it."

"What?" Zell threw a punch at the wall in annoyance. "So when something actually _happens_ on this stupid mission, they keep us up here like some stupid reserve? The hell is _that_ about?"

"Well," Quistis said, "I guess there are a couple ways to read it. One is that they don't trust us for some reason. Another is the intruder is going to be coming up this way to escape, and they want us here in case he does."

"Yeah, but why not tell us anything about what's happenin', then?" Zell asked.

"Oh, I think they just don't trust that we'll help _them_ instead of aiding whoever this intruder is," Quistis replied, with a sigh. "And I'll admit, the thought has crossed my mind."

The lifts had been shut down, and making his way up the stairwell with Rinoa on his back would have proven tiresome enough without Galbadian soldiers shooting down at him. So far, the soldiers had been content to retreat ahead of him, not giving him a clear opportunity to use magic by raining down bullets and the odd grenade that turned the maintenance of his Protect shield into an activity that easily consumed the majority of his attention.

Squall couldn't help feeling like the Galbadians were leading him somewhere, and that they were waiting to ambush for him at the top of the stairs, where he would have to come out onto the flight deck if he were to steal an airship and escape the facility. However, being as how there was nowhere else for him to go _but_ up, he saw no choice but to risk whatever it was they had in store for him.

He was already at sea level, he realized as he passed a window that showed a a view of the massive columns that rose out of the water to support the landing pad directly above him. Two more levels stood between him and the top of the stairs. The Galbadian soldiers had stopped shooting, and the sounds of their feet retreating ahead of him had ceased.

Pausing at the landing of what he guessed to be the last flight of stairs before the exit, Squall set Rinoa down, leaning her carefully against the wall. "I'll be right back, okay?" he asked, eliciting a quiet moan from her before he readied his gunblade and set off up the stairs once more.

The doorway had barely come into his line of sight when the scene exploded into a hail of bullets. Squall had to literally dive back down the stairs to avoid a fragmentation grenade that was rolled down at him; and the blast took enough of a toll on the stairs where he had just been standing that he was given a great lack of enthusiasm about going back up again.

"Damn," he uttered as he returned to where Rinoa lay, still safe for the moment. "Looks like the airships are out. We'll have to find another way to get off this place."

As he stared out the thin, heavily reinforced window at the blurry view of the facility, something caught his attention. The massive columns that supported the facility widened at sea level so as to accommodate the floatation equipment that could allow the entire DSRC to be towed across the ocean. Also there, he noticed, was something that looked a great deal like a hangar door.

"What floor is that...?" he wondered out loud, squinting at the companion column through the window. "Looks like just one level down. Yeah, has to be." Quickly, he picked Rinoa back up and began heading back down the stairs. He thought he could hear he sound of Galbadian boots pursuing him now from above, and made the best pace he could safely manage while descending a flight of stairs and carrying another person on his back.

The keycard he had taken was rejected when he reached the door, so he quickly repeated his triple-Demi measure to gain entry to the level. Standing guard on the other side was a single guard robot that had already been severely weakened by the Demi spells and which Squall finished easily with a single swipe from his gunblade. Picking up Rinoa once again, he set off in what he could only hope was the direction of an escape craft.

At first, his efforts met with little success, and he very nearly became lost wandering through the corridors. Furthermore, the Galbadians seemed to have caught on to his new plan, and he could hear them coming after him, always seeming to be just around the corner and ready to strike.

Despite the certain paranoia inherent in that perception, Squall eventually did find himself ambushed by a pair of Galbadian soldiers, who had treated him to a pair of magic blasts before he could duck around a corner to disengage himself from Rinoa. Having no desire to prolong the confrontation, he returned to the fight and took them both out with an Ultima blast. As he went back to pick up Rinoa and continue, however, he noticed a sign at the end of the hall reading, **HOVERCRAFT STORAGE - SEA ACCESS** and accompanied by a large, heavy door. He almost smiled at the fortune of the development.

However, before he could pick up Rinoa and proceed to his escape, he heard another set of running feet coming to interfere with his plans. He spun around, bringing his gunblade to the ready once more, but any action he would have taken was canceled as Quistis and Zell came running around the corner.

The two of them seemed easily as stunned as Squall over the encounter, and for a moment all three stood frozen in the hall. Quistis' eyes darted from Squall to the prone form of Rinoa lying against the wall, which held her attention for a long moment.

"_Squall_?" Zell said. "What the hell is goin' on? Are you..."

Squall toned out the rest of his words. Not until this moment had he considered what would happen to the other SeeDs on his team; but now the Doctor's words to him came back in full force. _If I get them involved,_ he realized, _my actions will reflect back on all of Garden._ He had ran himself into a corner, just as the man had warned he would.

An instant later, he saw a way out. He knew immediately that it was his only option; but still, it took a long, tense moment before he could find the resolve to execute it. Raising his free hand, he focused a wave of magic around himself, then channeled it outward towards the two other SeeDs.

_**Death. Death.**_

A pair of black clouds appeared before the startled Zell and Quistis, and the shadowy cut of a reaper's scythe drove through their bodies before they could react. To an ordinary person and some monsters, the attack would prove lethal; however the GFs junctioned to the SeeDs afforded them some protection. Zell collapsed unconscious to the floor, but Quistis was left completely unaffected by the spell. Physically, at least.

"Squall!" she exclaimed in shock. "What in Hyne's name are you _doing_?"

"Fight me," Squall instructed, tightly gripping his gunblade. Stepping forward, he called forth a trio of Meltdown blasts, which engulfed Quistis in a pillar of withering force. She recoiled under the attacks, a mad combination of emotions vying for dominance in her predominantly startled expression.

"Squall, I'm not the enemy!" she insisted. "Just tell me what's going on and —"

"_Fight_!" Squall snapped, jumping forward and making a swing with his gunblade. He came short of actually striking her, and Quistis merely jumped back to avoid the blow. When she still refused to take up a defensive position, Squall, heart pounding, lunged again, this time with a much harder horizontal strike that could well have cut his former instructor in half.

As he expected, Quistis' combat training finally prevailed, and her chain whip snapped out to intercept the blade. The whip wrapped itself around the weapon, arresting its movement as she ducked out of the way. With another snap of her wrist, Quistis tore the gunblade out of Squall's already shaking hands and sent it clattering to the floor.

"Squall, stop this —" she began in her most severe tone; however Squall did not give her the opportunity to finish. Rather, he caught the hand that was holding her chain whip with his own, then delivered a hard kick to her back that knocked her off her feet. Quistis reflexively let go of the weapon as she attempted to break her fall, but Squall held onto the hand and sent her crashing flat on her back. The other SeeD responded with her own martial arts training kicking in, sweeping out her legs to tangle with Squall's and sending him off his feet to join her on the floor.

Although the fall had obviously knocked the wind out of her, Quistis was also far from committed to the fight as the two of them picked themselves up off the floor. Squall, however, knew that she would defend herself on instinct if nothing else, so long as he pressed the attack. Before she had quite regained her balance, he attacked again, spinning and attempting to jab his elbow into her side. She ducked the blow, instead catching him in the stomach. Squall took the blow, lashing out himself with his foot and connecting with her side after all. He followed up the attack with a tough blow to the side of her head that would have rendered a normal person unconscious; but Quistis merely responded with a stinging uppercut that nearly took Squall out of the fight. Gritting his teeth, he caught her hand and drove his knee upward into her gut. She doubled over, and Squall backed away, trying to focus enough to concentrate on a magic spell.

_**Ultima.**_

Quistis' body was engulfed in an explosion of brilliant green, powerful enough to ionize the air around her. Already weakened by the Meltdown spells and Squall's physical assault, she nonetheless managed to remain on her feet through the attack. As she stood, wavering, and definitely out of the fight, she fixed Squall with an expression spent but able to convey one last message of confusion, and betrayal.

Finally, her consciousness gave up the ghost, and she collapsed to the ground. Squall, feeling incredibly drained himself, retrieved his gunblade, went back to pick up Rinoa, and continued on to the waiting hangar door.


	20. Fatalisms

"Doctor?" The assistant hesitated at the entrance to the laboratory that had held the Sorceress until that afternoon. The alcove where she had been held had not yet been touched since her removal, and a puddle of intravenous fluid had formed on the floor before the feeding device had been shut off. Likewise, there was a patch of partially dried blood just outside the door; fortunately, the soldiers' bodies _had_ been removed.

The doctor was standing inside the laboratory, scanning over the data on one of the monitors with little apparent heed for the nature of his surroundings or the absence of his test subject. When he glanced over to his assistant, his expression was one of mild annoyance at being disturbed. "Yes, what is it?" he asked.

"Sir, Administrator Derrick requests you send the government your most recent findings regarding the Sorceress along with his report of her escape."

He nodded. "An intelligent request. I'd been preparing to do just that." He indicated the data on the monitor. "At least Commander Leonhart saw fit to leave us all our files; there is sufficient information here to keep an entire team of scientists busy for years."

The assistant frowned, stepping up beside the doctor as he continued his examination of the monitor. "Do you believe they intend to recapture the Sorceress, doctor?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it," he replied. "Though I have strong doubts as to whether they will in fact be able to do so." Nodding to the information displayed on the monitor, he stepped aside to allow the assistant a better look. "The results of the latest tests. Tell me what you see here."

"Bio-etheric energy levels had increased by seven percent," he said, scrutinizing the graphs. "But her body was effectively comatose during that time."

"Indeed," said the doctor. "However, she never lost consciousness, did she? Despite the data recorded here, the Sorceress remained aware of her surroundings for the entire time."

The assistant nodded, frowning. "Yes, that's right. But that shouldn't be possible. What does it mean, doctor?"

The other man shook his head. "It's impossible to say with certainty without further tests, and that is of course no longer an option. However, I theorize that the same energy that provides the Sorceress with her magical abilities is also fueling her body and mind, preventing her from unconsciousness."

"But she was unconscious when she was brought into the facility," the assistant protested.

"And very heavily sedated, as well," the doctor observed. "And if you'll review the neural activity charts we have, you'll find that her state of consciousness does not appear to have changed at all over the several days since the sedatives wore off. By all scientific reason, she ought still to be in an unresponsive, comatose state." He began to pace, taking a few steps toward the empty alcove, then turning back towards the door. "Yet she was obviously conscious of us, and her surroundings. She interacted with us. The only explanation is that her neural state is no longer the sole indicator of her level of consciousness."

"So that means," said the assistant, "that her powers as a Sorceress are affecting her state of mind?"

The doctor glanced at him, with an eyebrow raised. "A particularly apt description, I'm afraid," he said. "The Sorceress possesses a well of power the extents of which we cannot even begin to hypothesize. We've verified experimentally that this power is having a profound affect on her body and, it appears, her mind. Under test conditions, this is a curiosity; however, now that she has been removed from the laboratory, I have grave concerns regarding how these effects will manifest."

There was a pause, as the assistant looked from the monitor to the doctor, and back. "...I'm not sure I understand, doctor," he said.

"Our goal in this research was to understand the Sorceress," said the doctor, "so that we might devise a means to stop her and those like her in the future. The need for this is obvious; every major conflict in history was precipitated by the actions of a Sorceress, from the Centran conquest of the Kashkabald lands in near-prehistory to the machinations of the Sorceresses Edea and Ultimecia only last year. And always, the Sorceress is ruthless in the application of her power."

Stepping over to the alcove where the Sorceress had been restrained, he frowned at the opened cuffs and hanging wires and tubes. "It seems now that the very energy that gives the Sorceress her power might implant a certain urge in her mind, in a certain way behaving as some mood-altering drug. Perhaps it reaches a point where the Sorceress is no longer in control of her powers, but rather the powers hold sway over her." He shrugged. "Such hypotheses aside, we have subjected the Sorceress to a treatment that would induce a strong current of resentment and hate in any living person. And in doing so, we have given her a very inviting target for her power."

The assistant was frowning deeply, trying to make sense of the doctor's words. "What do you think she's going to do?" he asked.

Solemnly, the doctor shook his head. "I can't predict the details," he said. "But I expect that Galbadia has a great deal more to fear now than we did when this project began."

**END OF PART ONE**


	21. Refuge

_You've all heard this before. How life has infinite possibilities. ...I don't believe that one bit._

_There weren't many paths for me to choose. Sometimes, there would only be one._

_From the limited possibilities I faced, the choices I made have brought me this far. That's why I value the path I chose — I want to hold true to the path that _had_ to be taken._

—Irvine Kinneas

Off to the east, a faint glimmer had begun to appear on the horizon, the predawn glow building around the craggy silhouettes of the nearby islands and turning the sky a rather pretty shade of orange. The few stars that had been visible during the night were hidden away behind the clouds that perpetually hung over the rugged landscape, never seeming to move or dissolve. Save for the gradual transition from night to day the whole of the stark, rocky inlet seemed almost like a painting, frozen in time.

As one sign that the world had not come entirely to a halt, a slight, warm breeze drifted up to Janson's perch. He rested atop a low cliff overlooking his ship's makeshift dock on the inlet's beach; the vessel rested at anchor below him, looking every bit the battered wreck. The sails, all but torn to shreds, had been removed from the rear of the ship and spread out on the rocky shore, where the crew was still debating over whether they could be mended; the rear half of the bridge had been blown away, and the mangled cowling of the portside hydrofan was being pried apart from the engine by a makeshift pulley. The waters and shore were littered with debris that had once been part of the vessel's elegant hull.

Though he tried his best not to think about it, the breeze produced enough agitation to the still-healing cuts on his arms and face to make them begin to itch. He wished for a moment that he had not removed the coat of his uniform, thinking that his arms at least might have some protection from the wind; but the whole reason he had removed the coat was because the fabric of the sleeves itched more. In any case, he was not about to put it back on, as his body ached enough that nearly any motion could cause him far more irritation and real pain than the breeze — this was the whole reason he was perched atop the cliff instead of down helping the other SeeDs as they struggled to repair the ship.

He'd been aware of the individual making his way along the beach toward him for some time, but he returned to the forefront of Janson's mind as the other SeeD finally came up on his location. "So how's it coming?" he asked, glancing from the ship to the approaching form.

"What's it look like?" Davis motioned back towards the vessel turned near-wreck. "We've been up all night trying to put her back together, but she's in more pieces now than when we started." He sighed. "Enough of the parts are still working that we can take her out of the cove, but right now a decent wind could send her to the bottom, to say nothing of that fleet. This is the sort of damage it'd take weeks at a fully equipped port to fix properly."

"Well, assuming we aren't going to find a port that can help us," Janson said, "how long do you figure on us being stuck here?"

Davis sighed. "If we actually had someplace to go, I'd say we might get there faster if we swam." He took another step up to the top of the ledge where Janson sat. "How are you doing?"

The White SeeD leader winced just at the question. "I've been better. I don't feel like I'm bad enough that I should be up here instead of helping, but then I try to move and..."

"Hey, we understand," Davis said. "Although I wasn't too clear on why you had to come up here."

"I wanted to keep out of the way," Janson said. "Plus, I figured if I just worked through it, a lot of the aching might just go away." He shook his head, making sure to keep the motion small. "Bad idea."

Davis chuckled.

A moment passed without any words being said. Janson changed his posture a little in response to a discomfort that he had just become aware of, and his mind drifted back to the one subject that could consistently hijack his thoughts on a moment's notice. "...Maybe they think we're dead this time," he said dully, no real conviction or hope in his voice.

The other White SeeD was equally unenthusiastic. "We've got away with that too many times already. I doubt they'll be happy now until they broadcast our executions on Channel Four."

Janson nodded again, gazing out at the mess that had been made by the ship's presence in the cove. Off to one end of the beach, he recognized Lina sitting with the nine children, telling them some story or other. "This really is a terrible life," he said. "Every time we get so close to death, it gets harder for me to believe that all this is really for the best. Especially with the children; if we can't protect them, what good is the future anyway?"

"Hey, we haven't lost anyone yet," Davis reminded him. "All things considered, I think we've been doing really well."

"That's the thing," said Janson. "We might have been lucky so far, but every time we come this much closer to not making it — to losing _everyone_." He gestured to the battered ship. "If this is what we got left with this time, what's going to happen when they come again? They learn more about us with every engagement, and we ran out of tricks a long time ago."

Davis was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful and nearly as tired as Janson felt. With a deep sigh, he lowered himself onto the ground next to his commander, also looking out at the vessel anchored in the bay. "What I never got about all this," he said, "is why Galbadia cares so much about us. I mean, we're not even two dozen including the kids, and we've never done a thing to undermine their government or whatever. But still, they'll send half the goddamn navy after us."

"Just by existing, we're a threat to them," Janson said. "They don't control us, so we _could_ act against them. That's what they're worried about; they know what even a few SeeDs can do. If they can't control us, they'll destroy us before we get a chance to destroy them."

"So why the hell don't we go for it?" Davis asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "They're already assuming we're gonna destroy them; let's do it! Maybe if we can get rid of this Naraka bastard, they'll just leave us alone."

Janson shook his head. "There'd just be more like him to take over the hunt. Anyway, SeeD is supposed to protect the world, not shape it to our will."

Davis shrugged. "I dunno about you, but _I'd_ feel a lot better protected without the Galbadians breathing down our backs all the time."

"Well, that's the worst thing about it," Janson said. "If we get rid of Naraka, we just make them madder. Galbadia's only gotten worse since Deling was killed; if we move against Naraka, it'll be bad for _him_, but things won't get any better for us."

There was a pause as the other White SeeD considered Janson words; then he shook his head, punctuating the motion with a frustrated sigh. "There really is no way out, is there?" he asked.

"None that I've managed to find," Janson agreed. "And believe me, I've been looking."

A few more moments passed in silence as the two of them looked out over the cove, unconsciously scanning the horizon for any signs of a Galbadian fleet coming to finish them off. After a time, Davis returned to his feet, glancing back at Janson. "Well, I'd better get back to the others," he said.

"Right," Janson said. "Stop by again sometime."

"You got it, boss." The White SeeD began to turn, but paused to solemnly salute his leader. "Oh, and with all respect...we will _never_ run out of tricks."

With that, he turned and headed back to the others. Janson nodded, glancing back out to the sea, where the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon.

"I guess we'd better not," he said quietly.


	22. Reactions

**June 9**

Naraka's motorcade arrived in front of the Galbadia Presidential Residence shortly after 01:00, passing through the main gate and pulling directly up to the front entrance in order to permit the President quick passage into the building. Naraka himself had been roused from sleep barely half an hour earlier, as his train _en route_ to Dollet had been diverted back to Deling City; and he was not a particularly agreeable morning person even when his mornings began on schedule, six hours later.

"Janis!" he snapped, as his chief aide met him at the doorway. "I'm going to miss an important meeting with he governor of Dollet over this, so please explain to me just what in the _flaming_ hell is going on?"

"The details are still coming in, Mr. President," Janis said, falling into step as Naraka breezed past the security guards and into the corridor. "The incident occurred about an hour ago on the Deep Sea Research Facility, apparently without any advance warning. A single attacker, one of the SeeDs, turned on our Galbadian forces —" he checked the clipboard he held in his hand. "— and apparently his fellow SeeDs as well, killing several soldiers and eventually escaping via one of our long-range hovercraft."

"Not good enough, damn it!" Naraka snapped, pausing impatiently for the attendant to call the lift for the executive level. "_Which_ SeeD was it, why did he suddenly turn on us, and _why_ did no one see this coming?" The lift arrived, and he stepped inside. "Have you contacted Garden yet? What do they have to say?"

"General Tolmar is attempting to reach Headmaster Xu right now, sir," Janis said. "You have to understand, Lord-General, that we only learned about this event a relatively short time ago, so we can't be certain about a number of the specifics at this —"

"There were nine SeeDs on the DSRC, correct?" Naraka cut him off. "It shouldn't be too hard to determine which of them was responsible for this act, would it? I trust my government has not reached _that_ degree of incompetence."

The other man paused uncomfortably for a moment as the lift doors opened and they stepped onto the building's second floor. "Yes, sir, we do have that information. According to preliminary reports from the facility, the individual responsible for the attacks was Commander Squall Leonhart."

Naraka stopped in his tracks and spun around to look the other man straight in the eye. Although he was rather short and lean in build, the General had an air about him that generated a very harsh, commanding presence, and Janis reflexively tensed. Naraka maintained the stare for a long moment, before glancing away as he assumed a thoughtful, but equally fierce attitude. "The commander of SeeD," he mused, before glancing back at Janis. "I wish to speak with General Tolmar _immediately_," he said, turning on his heel and heading off towards his office.

It was already well into midmorning, Balamb time, but Xu had only just managed to get away from her work long enough to take a late breakfast. Even without Squall and the others' secret mission to worry about, she had her hands full with summer classes, the newly enrolled students, preparing the next year's budget, and the dozens of other affairs that complicated her life as both the Headmaster and Garden Master of Balamb Garden.

When Lauren came into the cafeteria at a near dead sprint, she immediately winced in anticipation of whatever had gone wrong now. The other SeeD quickly spotted her, and ended any possibility of Xu having a decent meal.

"What's going on?" she asked, as Lauren came to a halt next to the table. "You look like you just saw Omega Weapon."

"Galbadia's calling," Lauren said, panting slightly. "General Tolmar herself. Says it's absolutely urgent."

Xu sighed. "What in god's name could they possibly want now?"

"They're demanding to speak with you," Lauren said, shaking her head. "They wouldn't tell me anything."

"All right," Xu said, emphasizing her resignation with another sigh. "I just hope they don't have another job for us. We are seriously close to running out of SeeDs to give them."

"I don't know about that," Lauren said as Xu rose to leave the cafeteria with her. "The way they were acting when I talked to them, I'm almost hoping it's something that simple."

Xu took the elevator up to the 3F, parting ways with Lauren and stepping into her office where the words **AUDIO CHANNEL OPEN** were being displayed on her vidphone. Sitting, she took a moment to steel herself for whatever it was the Galbadians had in store for her.

"This is Headmaster Xu," she said.

There was a brief pause from the other end. _"Headmaster, please hold for General Tolmar,"_ a voice replied.

_Hold?_ she wondered. _**You**__ called __**me**__! And what happened to "absolutely urgent"?_

"All right," she said, forcing her voice to remain neutral.

Perhaps half a minute later, the screen finally lit up with the image of the middle-aged Galbadian General. "Headmaster," she said. "I apologize for the delay; I was speaking directly with Lord-General Naraka."

Xu nodded formally. "I see. You'll understand I'm curious about the reason for this call."

"I'll get straight to the matter," Tolmar said. "We've received a report indicating that, just over an hour ago, a member of the SeeD team we hired on the fifth of this month violently turned against us and escaped our custody. A number of our soldiers are dead. Naturally, the President is seriously concerned about the matter, and we are very interested in hearing Garden's perspective on these events."

Xu stared at the screen for a moment, totally speechless. It took several seconds for her mind to properly process the information that had been given her, and somewhat longer to devise any sort of response. "...I, ah...this is an absolute shock," she said truthfully. "I don't know what to say. It's completely unprecedented for any SeeD to act against their employer in such a way."

"So you didn't have any foreknowledge that this was going to occur?" Tolmar asked.

"I've been completely out of contact with that SeeD team since we left them at the pickup point in the mountains," Xu said. "How could I have had any knowledge?"

"Considering the number of high-level SeeDs on the team," Tolmar continued, "the President is concerned that this might have been a staged attempt to undermine the contract."

"Absolutely not." Xu shook her head vigorously, trying not to reveal how hard her heart was pounding. "All of them were instructed to cooperate fully with their employer, just as always. I can't explain what could have led any of them to do such a thing."

As she strove to fight off her initial shock at Tolmar's announcement, her mind finally began working through the event. What _could_ have caused one of the SeeDs to suddenly turn on the Galbadians? It was even more confusing that it had only been one of them, rather than a mass mutiny, which would at least have made more sense. Perhaps the Galbadians were lying; all the SeeDs had risen up, but only one had escaped? Possible, she thought, but also far-fetched. Regardless, the SeeDs in question had departed Garden not even three days ago, with no such intentions that she knew of; something must have changed fast for them on their mission.

"This behavior is, of course, a direct violation of both the contract that was agreed upon for this deployment and your extended contract with our government," Tolmar said. "Considering it also seriously undermines the interests we hired these SeeDs to protect, it's very important that we determine just what it was that provoked this action."

"Of course," Xu said. However, she could tell enough from observing a person's behavior to know that Tolmar almost certainly knew a good deal more about the matter than Xu herself; though that much was fairly obvious in any case, considering that Xu didn't know anything. "Garden will assist you in any means possible. I'd like to know a bit more about the incident, however; I think it would be best for everyone if we were all on the same page about this."

Tolmar frowned at her for a fraction of a moment, apparently trying to read the Headmaster just as Xu was attempting to read her. "We're still collecting details ourselves; there's a limit to how much I've been told."

_And you don't trust Garden any farther than you could throw it,_ Xu added silently. _Believe me, the feeling's mutual._

"Can you at least say who it was that was responsible for this incident?" Xu asked, watching carefully for any sign of facial language from the other woman that might give her some sort of hint, regardless of the spoken answer.

Unfortunately, the General seemed to be quite good with her cards face. "I don't have that information," she said. "Again, this event occurred a very short time ago, and reports are still coming in."

This was obviously ridiculous; the identity of the SeeD would be the first thing the Galbadians ought to know. However, Xu couldn't very well call the Galbadian liaison a liar to her face and expect a positive result, so that effectively ended that line of questioning. "Well, let me assure you that the full resources of Garden will be at your disposal with regard to resolving this situation," she said aloud. "We don't tolerate renegades, and certainly not those who break with contracts to harm our clients."

"I'm certain the President will appreciate that," Tolmar said, glancing somewhere offscreen. "You'll be contacted again once we have more information."

Xu nodded, uttering a few more pleasantries and declarations of shock and resolve before the call was ended. Once it was, she activated the private line for her assistant's desk. "Trent, find Lauren and get her right away," she commanded.

"_Yes, ma'am,"_ the young man's voice replied. Xu nodded, and buried her face in her hands as she waited. She hadn't had many good days since taking over as Headmaster of Garden, but this one ranked well below all of her her worst so far; and it was only 09:13. Furthermore, although she wasn't quite sure how yet, Xu was certain that in the days or weeks to come, things were going to get much, much worse.

"_She denies any foreknowledge of the event, Lord-General,"_ Tolmar's voice said as Naraka tore through the latest report that had arrived on his desk regarding the incident. _"And she has promised the full assistance of Garden in tracking down the individual responsible."_

"A request we obviously can't assent to," Naraka said. "More likely she simply wishes her forces to find the renegade before we do, so they can shelter him from justice."

"_General, if I may,"_ Tolmar said. _"If this was in any way a coordinated action, why would only one of the SeeDs turn against us? That leaves the other eight in our custody, and could have seriously harmed their chances of success at whatever their objective was."_

"That one SeeD was the commander of Garden," Naraka reminded her. "That's an absurd individual to turn renegade, and even more absurd that none of the others would have supported him. This can only be an orchestrated incident." He finished with the report. "How much information did you give her?"

"_Only the basics,"_ Tolmar replied. _"And I didn't get the impression that she knew any more than that. Lord-General, it's truly my opinion that she did not have any foreknowledge of this incident."_

"Be that as it may," Naraka said dismissively, "we have a serious breach on our hands. We can't afford to trust Garden in this affair, especially not now that we must track down the leader of their SeeD force." Janis stepped into the office with another dispatch, which Naraka took immediately. "They'll have to be watched."

"_Yes, Lord-General."_

As Naraka began to read through the report now in his hand, his face darkened considerably. "That will be all for now, General," he said abruptly, terminating the call. "Why the _hell_ wasn't I informed of this sooner?" he demanded of his aide.

"Mr. President, that dispatch arrived literally seconds ago," Janis said. "It's the first we've heard about it from Administrator Derrick."

"Well, what the god's name is Derrick thinking, then?" Naraka snapped. "The Sorceress has been stolen from under his nose, and he waits this long to even _mention_ it?" He cast the dispatch down on his desk, pointing a commanding finger at Janis. "Get the Defense Commissioner and the Joint Chiefs together right away, as well as the Director of Intelligence. And ask Derrick to kindly reveal anything _else_ he might have been holding back from us!"

"Yes, sir," Janis said, turning immediately to carry out his instructions. As he left, Naraka glanced around the circular office for something on which to vent the fury that was threatening to overcome his generally disciplined manner, and bringing with it an unusual and very unwelcome fear. The General was quite certain that, at the least, he would not be getting back to sleep anytime in the near future.


	23. The Frying Pan

As she came to, the first thing Quistis became aware of was that she was itching like crazy. She groaned, attempting to get up and in doing so learning that all her muscles ached as well. She lay back down and, since her eyes seemed to hurt just as much when they were closed as open, took a few moments to examine her surroundings.

She was lying on her back on a metal surface with some sort of cushion beneath her head. Bare florescent lights ran along the ceiling, which was made of the same metal plating that composed everything she had seen of the DSRC. When she strained to turn her head one way or the other, she determined that there was a row of medical beds lined up alongside her, one containing a Galbadian soldier whom he didn't know while a very groggy-looking Zell sat on the other. She was still putting the pieces together when the other SeeD observed her looking at him.

"Hey!" he said. "I was getting kinda' worried about you!"

Quistis' throat felt terrible as well, so she elected not to reply.

"Oh, you're awake," came a voice from beyond her feet, and a Galbadian woman in a medical gown stepped into her field of vision. "Hold on just a moment, please."

The woman reached up to move some sort of mechanical arm with a strange-looking box over Quistis' chest, then tapping in a series of commands on a remote she took from her pocket. The device began to hum, and a moment later a bright blue-white light enveloped Quistis' body, and she felt the familiar tingling of a curative magic spell. The aura seemed to last a little longer than she would expect, but once it dissipated, Quistis felt considerably better, if not quite in peak physical condition.

"I'm sorry about the discomfort," the woman said, swinging the arm out of the way. "But we needed to wait until you regained consciousness on your own before administering the treatment. Your body should be able to recover the rest of the way on its own over the next few hours or so."

Quistis nodded, trying again to raise herself upright. This time, her body was more cooperative, and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to face Zell.

"I'd ask what happened," she said quietly, "but I'm not sure I want to hear the answer."

"Hey, you're looking at the wrong guy anyway," Zell said. "All I remember is seen' Squall and then it all just faded out."

"You were the lucky one," Quistis said, wincing as she tried to work out a bothersome crick in her back.

"I'll inform Administrator Derrick you're awake," the doctor said. "I'm sure he'll want to meet with both of you right away."

Quistis nodded as the woman moved off to the intercom. After a few words exchanged with the person on the other end of the link, she moved off to attend to one of the other patients and left the two SeeDs to wait, apparently for the Administrator's arrival.

"Man, what was Squall _doing_, anyway?" Zell asked. "Was he the intruder the whole time? I mean, what d'you think could've gotten into him back there?"

Quistis didn't reply at first. She knew that her memory contained all the pieces she needed to solve the puzzle, but her mind, still dazed, refused to put them together. Only one thought finally managed to force its way to the surface.

"Rinoa," she said softly, her voice near a whisper. "Rinoa was here."

Zell stood completely frozen for a moment as he absorbed the information; then he responded in a considerably more vocal tone. "_WHAT?_" he demanded, shaking his head vigorously. "Wait...that person...lying on the floor when we...oh, _man_! Geez, those Galbadian bastards...what d'you think they were —"

"Zell!" Quistis hissed, succeeding in putting an end to his disjointed tirade as the doctor approached once again, this time with a pair of soldiers following behind.

If the woman had heard any of their exchange, her attitude didn't show it. "The Administrator would like to meet along with your entire team in the conference room on Level Three," she said. "I didn't see a problem with releasing you, so long as you don't overexert yourself. These men will show you the way."

Quistis nodded, casting a glance at Zell to warn him against doing or saying anything rash as she slid off the bed and onto her feet.

There were half a dozen soldiers standing guard outside the conference room already when Quistis and Zell arrived; however, the room itself was occupied only by the other six SeeDs. The guards showed them through the door, but also remained outside, leaving the eight of them alone for the time being.

"You guys okay?" Nida asked.

Quistis nodded. "We'll survive." _Assuming any of us do, that is._

"You guys have any idea what was going on before?" Irvine asked. "Where's Squall, anyway?"

Any further conversation was cut off by the entry of Administrator Derrick, with Colonel Graize and a quartet of soldiers. "Be seated," he commanded harshly, as the soldiers spread out on either side of him at the head of the table. The eight SeeDs quickly complied. "I've been in direct communication with the office of Lord-General Naraka; and needless to say, he is very concerned about this incident. The actions of your Commander reflect very badly on all of you, and indeed the institution of Garden." He narrowed his eyes. "And given the circumstances, your loyalties are rather suspect as well."

"Hold on a second," said Irvine, holding up his hand. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Yeah!" Selphie chimed in. "And where's Squall? What did you do to him?"

Derrick gave them a very long, harsh glare. "I would warn you not to feign innocence; it will gain you nothing."

"Hey, we're not feigning anything, okay?" asserted Jeck with his typical boistrosity. "I don't know what your deal is, but why don't you tell us what's goin' on before you start with the accusations?"

The Administrator glanced at Quistis and Zell, frowning deeply. "Yes, all the evidence would indicate that you are telling the truth," he said. "But it is hardly credible that not one of you was complicit in his defection from our service and escape with a very dangerous prisoner."

Selphie was the first to recover enough to formulate a response. "Squall did _WHAT?_" she demanded.

"You're lying, man!" added Irvine. "No way would Squall do something like that unless you guys provoked him somehow!"

"I'll bet you guys have got him locked up downstairs right now," said Jeck, "an' you're just makin' excuses to do the same to us."

"Interesting," said Derrick, frowning. "Your belligerence is hardly becoming of one who would feign innocence, especially considering the penalty you would suffer for aiding the escape of the Sorceress, a known terrorist, from Galbadian custody."

"The _who_?" Paige exclaimed, before theatrically clapping her hand over her mouth as if her outburst somehow set her apart from her equally stunned companions.

"...Sorceress?" asked Jeck, for once too surprised to make any attempt at wit.

"Woah!" said Irvine. "You mean you guys...you had...she was...the Sorceress is —"

"Be silent!" Graize commanded; but the Administrator's frown had deepened considerably.

"_Very_ interesting," he observed. "You're either very clever or very foolish; and though I still have a good idea which —"

The door to the conference room opened to admit a young man in an administrative uniform similar to Derrick's. "Sir, there's an urgent message from the office of the President," he said.

Derrick nodded. "Very well. I'll take it right away." He then turned and led the Galbadian entourage out of the room, leaving the SeeDs alone again.

After glancing around the room to search for any sort of surveillance device, Nida became the first to break the silence and say something intelligible. "...So I'm guessing 'the Sorceress' is Rinoa, then."

Quistis nodded. "Squall was...Zell and I ran across him trying to escape the facility. Rinoa was with him; and she looked in terrible shape. I didn't know what was going on, and before I could understand, Squall attacked us."

"He _WHAT_?" Selphie exclaimed. "Why would Squall ever do something like that?"

Nida was frowning.

"This doesn't make sense," said Irvine. "I mean, if I'd known Rinoa was here, I'd...but why do it like this? Why'd he leave us out, and turn on you guys instead of letting us help him?"

Jeck shook his head. "...Man. Guys, you remember all the stories, right? About how Sorceresses bewitch people into turning on old friends and family at the drop of a hat? It's seriously happening. This is unreal."

"Rinoa wouldn't do that!" Selphie protested.

"I think the evidence kind of speaks for itself," said Jeck.

"He wanted me to fight him..." Quistis recalled, her own mind not functioning quite properly when she thought of the event. "He tried to knock us out with Death spells, but when my junctions protected me...he kept telling me to fight back."

"What are we going to do about the Galbadians?" Paige asked. "I mean, what are they going to do with us now?"

"Yeah," added Selphie. "How are we going to get out of here and help Squall and Rinoa?"

"..._Help_ 'em?" asked Jeck. He probably would have said more, but the doors slid open to admit Derrick and his entourage once into the room once again. The Administrator regarded them coldly for a moment, as the SeeDs wrestled with a number of different emotions that were hanging over them.

"The president wishes to retrieve the Sorceress with all due haste," he announced. "He also requires me to assess your loyalties and complicity in this operation, again with haste."

Nida raised his hand. "Uh, question?"

Derrick frowned at him.

"If we were in on Squall's actions, why would we still be here awaiting judgment? Wouldn't we have been trying to make sure his action succeeded, and then ran off ourselves?"

"Perhaps you wish to deflect the responsibility from your Garden by attempting to convince us that this was an independent action," said Graize.

"An independent action by the leader of our SeeD force?" Nida asked. "No one would believe that, right?" He shrugged. "Which is kind of ironic, really, because it's actually the truth. See, Squall has...a personal connection to the Sorceress, and really it's been compromising his judgment for a while now."

Quistis, along with many of the other SeeDs, gave Nida quite a surprised look.

"I know we're not supposed to speak out against our Commander," he continued, "but now he's put Garden's reputation on the line." He gave Graize a very solemn look. "SeeD doesn't turn on its employers. And to prove it...we'll help you track down the Sorceress. And Squall."

"What?" Selphie demanded.

"Man, are you kidding?" concurred Irvine.

Quistis, however, was struck by an insight. "...He's right," she said, nodding to Nida. "SeeD will fulfill its contractual obligations, regardless of circumstances. Squall has gone rogue, and it's our job to track him down and subject him to disciplinary action."

The others now looked at _her_ with similar expressions of disbelief, but she rewarded them with a very harsh _keep-quiet_ glare.

"Administrator," Graize hissed, giving a very distrustful look to the SeeDs. Derrick turned to the man, and the two exchanged a muted conversation that Quistis could not quite make out.

It wasn't long before Irvine took to a similar vocalization. "Hey, what's going on with you two?" he whispered. "If these guys had Rinoa here — and Hyne knows what they were doing to her — we should be out there _helping_ Squall, not tracking him down for these bastards!"

"There's only one good explanation for why Squall didn't tell anyone what he was going to do," said Nida in an equally hushed tone. "...well, maybe two; but the way I see it is, he wanted to make sure we would all escape the blame. The best thing we can do is play along."

"As long as we're on this facility, we're at the Galbadians' mercy," Quistis said. "Squall might have caught them off guard once, but we'd be better off pretending to work with them until we find our way someplace where we can escape more easily."

Irvine shook his head slowly. "...I still don't like this," he muttered.

"Challenging them here won't get us anything," Quistis reminded him. "Please, just go with us on this."

Derrick turned back to face the SeeDs, fixing them with another harsh gaze. "There is significant cause to doubt your sincerity," he said, "considering the circumstances. However, I am under imperative from Deling City to recover the Sorceress as quickly as possible, through whatever means at my disposal. That includes you. Therefore, you will prepare to depart this facility and pursue Commander Leonhart with the intent to apprehend him and the Sorceress, so that she may be returned to us and he prosecuted for this outrage." His tone became harsher. "Your actions _will_ be observed. One hint of betrayal, and I will classify you all as enemies of the state of Galbadia and recommend that you be killed on sight."

Quistis nodded curtly. "When do we leave?"

"Colonel Graize will coordinate your activities." Derrick turned and left without any further ceremony.


	24. Resolutions

Memories had been haunting Squall for the better part of his life. Often they were not even fully remembered, dreamlike images of the orphanage, his early years at Garden or the hectic events of the Third Sorceress War. Or the day he had learned that Cid and Edea had died, and he had felt more alone then than ever since the day Ellone had left the orphanage. The GF were making the details fade and specifics blurred, but the images and the feelings remained as strong as ever.

But lately, Rinoa had been taking the lion's share of his thoughts. The few short weeks they had been together seemed to have left an impression stronger than anything else in his life; enough that he had endured a year of waiting with the unflagging hope of seeing her again. Especially since her capture, his thoughts had barely been able to focus on anything else.

And now she lay not a meter behind him, yet barely registered as an afterthought. Now it was Quistis whom Squall couldn't get out of his mind; and his memories were only a few hours old. It seemed that he would never be able to escape the look on her face when he had finally defeated her, and the disbelief that was still in her eyes. It would have been bad enough that she probably thought he'd betrayed her; but even at the end, she hadn't been willing to accept it. Squall was certain that she had been trying to understand with her last conscious thought.

But it was true. Squall _had_ betrayed her, betrayed them all. Not to the Galbadians, or anyone else; but he had turned his back on his companions without so much as a word. He knew that he had acted in the best interests of Garden, but in doing so he had broken the trust of his friends and assaulted them to boot. No matter how he attempted to rationalize his decision, the memory of the look in Quistis' eyes was enough to drown out any such thoughts.

When Squall first caught sight of the Winhill shore on the horizon ahead of him, the morning sun still hung low over the sea. Forced for the moment to live in the present, he found a rocky, deserted beach and ran the Galbadian hovercraft straight up out of the water without even slowing down; he kept going northward, uphill as far as the vessel could take him. He then shut the engine down, then slumped over the controls, panting as if he had been holding his breath all the way from Battleship Island.

For several long minutes, he just sat in the operator's seat, within sight of the coast and in the massive shadow of Shenand Hill. The sun was up now, but the sky was becoming cloudy and a dreary mood fell across the land. Squall had no difficulty in sharing it; all the thoughts that had simply cluttered up his mind while he was fleeing across the sea at one hundred fifty kilometers per hour could no longer be put off for him to avoid thinking about.

_Where can I possibly go from here?_ he wondered. In escaping the Galbadians, he had very effectively burned all his bridges with SeeD as well. Even assuming the others could forgive him for what he had done to Quistis and Zell, he could not jeopardize Garden by seeking shelter there now. He had to go into hiding, somewhere the Galbadians couldn't possibly find him.

He had no idea where such a place might be.

Fishermans Horizon would probably take him in, he thought; but FH was hardly secure from the Galbadian microscope. He could attempt to take refuge in Trabia, perhaps with the Shumis; but he was presently in South Winhill, and he doubted that his stolen hovercraft's fuel supply would last quite long enough to propel him halfway around the world.

And there was Esthar. Laguna would take him in, no doubt; but Esthar was also quite far away, and he knew of no means of entry save walking across the Horizon Bridge — an experience that had been grueling enough when he'd only had to cross half of it.

Shaking his head, Squall shed the safety harness that had held him to the hovercraft's seat, then turned to do the same for Rinoa. Her condition had not improved since he had removed her from Battleship Island; she appeared conscious in that her eyes were open, but they did not seem to see Squall or anything else, and she seemed entirely too weak to move.

"Rinoa?" he asked, still hoping that some acknowledgment would be forthcoming from her. "It's Squall. You're safe now. I've got you away from those Galbadian bastards, and if they come for you again, they'll have to deal with me first."

His words provoked little response. Rinoa's eyes fluttered slightly, and that seemed to be the extent of her range of motion.

"Rinoa, please tell me you're going to be okay," Squall begged. "Say something. I just need to hear your voice."

Rinoa's eyes fluttered again, and her lips parted sluggishly as if she were trying to remember how to use them. Still, she uttered no sound.

"Oh god, Rinoa," Squall whispered, feeling a sudden need to embrace her. "What did they do to you? I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't prevent this." He discovered that his whole body was shaking now, and tears were stinging his eyes. "It'll never happen again. I won't ever leave again, Rinoa. I promise."

He could not discern any clear response from Rinoa at all.

It only dimly registered in Xu's mind that it was nearly dinnertime, and she had therefore been holed up in her office for a good twelve hours, with only her aborted breakfast to provide a brief respite from her work. This wasn't _too_ unusual in and of itself nowadays, so it was rather the nature of her work that she gave the most concern to.

What she knew was that Galbadia's armed forces had gone to National Alert Condition 3, and a half-dozen of SeeD's joint contracts with Galbadia had been canceled; nearly twenty SeeDs who had been working directly with Galbadian forces were already on their way home. While this was good news in itself, it also meant that Galbadia distrusted Garden enough to give up SeeD assistance on a number of operations that had been termed "of extremely serious concern to Galbadian security" when SeeD had first been requested. It also made her concerned for the fate of the teams that were _not_ being sent home.

The remaining SeeD deployments were all in areas like Dollet or the Dingo area, well away from Galbadia itself. Xu guessed that the intent was to keep SeeDs away from the Galbadian homeland, perhaps in preparation for a propaganda campaign to demonize Garden or simply to prevent SeeD from moving directly against the Galbadian government. Also, the teams were all operating close to or under the supervision of far superior Galbadian military forces, who might have orders now to capture or eliminate the SeeDs if they were given any cause to.

She didn't know what had triggered all this, and she could only guess that the Galbadians hadn't made the whole thing up, because they probably wouldn't have bothered going to all this trouble if they had. She didn't know how much danger Garden was in, or if she should expect Galbadian reprisal sooner, later, or at all. And she didn't know how she could possibly do anything from behind a desk here in Balamb.

There was a knock on the door, and Lauren stepped in. "You wanted to see Linnis before she headed out?" she said.

Xu nodded, remembering that there _was_ something she could do. "Yes, I did. Is she here now?"

Lauren nodded. "She's right outside."

Xu nodded again. "Please."

The other SeeD exited, then a slim, sandy-haired girl stepped into the office. "Linnis Cochran reporting, ma'am," she said, saluting.

Xu stood and returned the salute. "I'm sorry to take up your time when you're just about to depart, Linnis, but I have additional orders for you."

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Xu nodded. "You could say that, yes. I doubt I have enough information myself to explain very well, but Galbadia is claiming that one of our SeeDs on deployment to an undisclosed location has turned against them and gone rogue. They're not releasing any details whatsoever, but I think they believe it was part of some larger plot by Garden."

Linnis was immediately concerned. "Are they going to do something?"

"I really don't know," said Xu. "They could be. That's what I need to speak to you about. I'm not in contact with our SeeD team, so right now all I know is what the Galbadians tell me. And as you can guess, they aren't being particularly talkative."

"...And you want me to get answers for you." Understanding was dawning in the SeeD's face.

"Right now, I'm most concerned about Galbadian retaliation. They're sending home all the SeeD teams who might be able to pre-empt such a move, but yours will still be heading to Dollet without any declared change in mission." She sighed. "I don't know if you'll be able to find out anything, but if they decide to attack Garden, we'll need all the warning we can get. So I want you to collect all the information you can, without doing anything that's too suspicious. Report back whenever you can, and if you find information that Galbadia is about to attack, you should take whatever steps you can to protect Garden."

Expression grim, Linnis nodded. "Got it."

Xu stood and saluted. "Good luck. I know you'll do your best." As the other SeeD turned and stepped out of the office, she quietly added, "And let's all hope that our best is good enough this time."


	25. Alert Conditions

**June 10**

"Foster!"

When Miranda had arrived in the _Dollet Times_' newsroom late in the morning, the level of activity there had already risen to a frenzy. Dissected copies of the day's paper had been pinned up along the wall, with notes scribbled on nearby whiteboards about what stories tomorrow's paper should follow up on, and how. Though it was not even noon yet, the front-page headline, **GALBADIA RAISES NATIONAL ALERT CONTITION - GOVERNMENT RESPONDS TO UNKNOWN THREAT**, had already generated enough notes to require two additional boards.

"How's it going, Blake?" she asked, changing course to join the man who had shouted her name. "Look, I had this idea over breakfast on the Howen thing, so I stopped by the Records Office on the way here, and I've _got_ it! It's pretty well buried, but there's documented evidence that Deling's people gave him a big cash deposit right before the attack on Dollet! It doesn't say what for, of course, but considering all the stuff we already have about Howen betraying military secrets to Galbadia, this is a perfect last piece for the puzzle!"

"Foster —"

"Now I can call his people up for reactions right away, work out the rest of the article over lunch – I already have a draft right here – and be done by this evening so we can run the article tomorrow!" She glanced at the headline pinned up on the wall. "That is, if there's any room left in the paper after this Galbadia stuff."

Blake seemed less enthusiastic. "Look, Foster..."

"Hey, I know you gave me until the end of the week," she continued, "but I figure if we can run with this sooner, it's that much better! We've already waited half a month for this follow-up; why drag it out even longer? And besides, I had this other idea that I kind of wanted to go after, so –"

"Foster, shut up for a second." Blake waited to make sure she would actually do so before continuing. "One of your sources is saying you coerced him into giving a false statement."

Miranda blinked. "You've got to be kidding. Who said that?"

"Burgon, the guy from the campaign office."

"That's insane. I didn't do a thing to him; he was kind of nervous, but I didn't even have to lean on the guy."

"Well, he's telling a different story. Did you tape the interview?"

Miranda shook her head. "He wouldn't let me."

"Well, see, we've got a problem, then. Don't get me wrong, I'm guessing the Galbadians just got to him and gave him some dos and don'ts of press relations. Still, even assuming we don't cite him as a source, we could get hammered if we run the story now." He shrugged. "Besides, with this whole NALCON-3 thing having everyone on edge, we probably couldn't have run the article anyway."

"Terrific," Miranda huffed. "I finally get a break on this thing, and it gets knocked out by some stupid national emergency." She paused. "Hey, if the whole article's on hold, does that mean I'm free to check out something else?"

Blake frowned. "Well, we're not going to give up the story forever, you know. We just need to wait until —"

"See, there's this other story I've been wanting to check out for a while," interrupted Miranda, ignoring Blake's rather exasperated expression. "The thing about the pirate ship the Navy was chasing down south? Galbadia's been acting really weird about it, and I've got this feeling that there's something else going on down there."

"Foster..." Blake rolled his eyes.

"I'm not asking for much; I can do the whole investigation myself, and I'll cover all my own expenses. Just say the word, and I can get started right away."

"Foster, we've already _got_ something going on with Galbadia." Blake motioned to the whiteboard. "Even if you could find something, we wouldn't have anywhere to run it. Plus you're only a junior reporter, and we don't usually give out big jobs like this to people who haven't even graduated from college. Besides, we're already in enough trouble over the way we're covering the partisans; the last thing we need is to get the G-men too annoyed at us in the middle of the biggest story of the year."

Miranda looked at him with an expression termed best as disappointment. "Hyne, Blake, usually you can at least come up with _good_ ways to say no." Blake sighed, but could not even get out a 'Foster...' before she pressed on. "I mean, for all we know, this business down south is _why_ Galbadia upped the NALCON, and if we don't follow up on it, inside of a week we won't have any news worth printing. And since when did you care what the Galbadian government thought of our stories?"

"Since they threatened to shut us down, Miranda. Didn't you read that memo?" Blake hesitated a moment, and his tone softened. "Look, this isn't fun for me. But we can't just go around causing trouble at a time like this."

Miranda scoffed. "I'm a reporter, Blake. It's my job to cause trouble."

"Foster!" snapped Blake. "You should know better than to go spouting off things like —"

"Okay, fine. It's my job to find out the truth about things that affect the lives of our readers, _whether or not_ it might annoy the people who are occupying our country. I'm not going to sit on my hands just to appease the Galbadians, for crying out loud! I'm going after this story; and if you won't let me, I'll quit."

This surprised Blake enough to keep him silent for a few seconds. "You're out of your mind."

"I'll get a job at the IFP or something. I'm dead serious about this, Blake. Look, I was incredibly lucky to land this spot at the _Times_, but if the paper's gonna censor itself to make the Galbadians happy, then I'm gone."

Blake heaved what was probably the biggest sigh he had ever made. "Foster," he said, "...I'm starting to see how you got from intern to politics correspondent inside of six months."

Miranda watched him expectantly.

He threw up his hands. "Go for it. I'll probably get fired for this, and if Galbadia decides to burn down the building or anything, I plan to say it was all your fault, so don't thank —"

"Thanks, Blake!" Miranda was halfway to her desk before Blake could finish the sentence.

Keri was usually quite a morning person, having done most of her coursework as a student before any of her roommates had awakened to distract her. However, circumstances such as the time zone and unforgiving schedule set by the Galbadians were having a rather negative impact on her morale, which manifested itself in the form of perpetual drowsiness. All in all, it wasn't a very fun thing.

"So there are, what, twenty-three thousand islands in this archipelago?" asked Sean, who was hunched over a display screen. "And the pirates could be hiding on any one of them, if they're even here anymore. There's gotta be a better way to look for them than just throwing up search balloons and hoping they spot something."

"Like what?" Mara asked.

"The balloons are looking down from something like five miles up in the air," said Keri, absently playing with a pen. "They can see a lot of different islands from that high. And they did launch, like, thirty balloons."

"Still, there's gotta be something that doesn't involve us staring at a bunch of pictures of tiny little islands looking for some stupid ship-shaped dot," Sean pressed. "I can't tell a thing from these stupid images, anyway. How am I supposed to guess what's a ship and what's just some really weird-shaped rock?"

"Oh, quit your whining," Tavin snapped. "It's our job to find the pirates, not sit here and bitch about it."

Sean glared. "Look, man, why don't you —"

"Sean, shut up," Keri declared, yawning. "If you want respect, quit acting like such a whiner." She stood, an effort that, considering her drowsiness, took a considerably greater force of willpower than it normally would. "I'll take over if you really can't handle it."

"Hmph," Sean replied indignantly; but he did relinquish the monitor station without any delay. Keri sat down and began scanning through the images being transmitted by the Galbadian search balloons. It required a considerable effort on her part simply to focus on the screen enough to make the islands appear as something other than a big spotted blur.

"I don't suppose we can control the altitude of these balloons at all?" Mara asked. "Number 18's flown into a cloud or something; I can barely see anything on this screen."

Keri shook her head. "Not that I know of. They are balloons, after all."

"Right." Mara turned her attention to another of the display screens. Almost immediately, she frowned. "...Hey. There's something weird on one of these islands."

"What is it?" Tavin demanded, immediately hovering over her shoulder.

Mara shrugged. "Not a ship, I don't think. Unless they took it apart and dragged it onto the beach, anyway. But that really looks like some kind of debris."

"Which island is it?" asked Keri.

"I don't think it has a name," replied Mara, glancing at a map legend. "It's the one in grid J-14 on the feed from Number 20."

With an effort to set aside her drowsiness, Keri called up the data from the specified balloon and zoomed in on the island in question. "That does look like some kind of wreckage," she said. "It can't be enough for the whole ship, though; maybe it broke up and that stuff washed ashore?"

"We sure it's from the pirates, though?" asked Tavin.

"I don't know how we could be," Keri said. "I mean, boat wreckage looks like boat wreckage, especially from five miles up."

"Hold on," said Mara. "If that stuff just washed ashore, shouldn't it have washed up on more islands than just that one?"

"You've got a point." Keri frowned. "...That island looks like it's got a pretty nice beach, there. Maybe they stopped to make repairs, then left."

"Okay, I'm telling the Galbadians," Tavin said. "And keep looking; if they stopped to make repairs after escaping the Galbadian fleet, they can't be far from there now."

Keri held back a yawn. "You bet. We'll be down here, putting our SeeD training to good use by staring at video screens all day."

"Hey," said Sean. "I was gonna say something sort of like that."

This revelation hit Keri relatively hard. "...Hyne, I need a nap," she said.


	26. Necessity

It was barely an hour before Quistis and her SeeD team were scheduled to leave the DSRC to track down Squall and Rinoa; and tensions were running somewhat high in anticipation of their new deployment. Having been elevated to leadership of the SeeD team under what were among the worst possible circumstances she could imagine, Quistis' morale was in particularly dire straits, although she was exerting a significant effort so as not to let it show.

"Now, the Galbadians are allowing us to decide our own means of searching for Squall," she said, "because of course Galbadian troops will be conducting a major search as well. However, they will be sending a few troops along with us to...observe."

"To make sure we don't turn around and help Squall get away from them, you mean," Jeck said, folding his arms.

"Well, we've gotta ditch them somehow," Irvine said.

"First things first," said Quistis. "The most important order of business is getting onto the mainland. Once we're there, we can decide our next move."

"Man," Zell said. "I dunno if I can take this. I mean, even _pretendin'_ to help out the people who did all that stuff to Rinoa! Damn, I wish Squall'd let us help him!"

"Why, so we could _totally_ blow our contract and maybe get the Galbadians to fire missiles at Garden again?" Jeck asked. "Yeah; _I'd_ sure do all that to help out some Sorceress."

Zell bristled. "Hey, watch it, man! They're our friends, and we've gotta help 'em! You better not be taking the Galbadians' side over Squall!"

"Hey, I'm bein' realistic here," Jeck replied, not intimidated. "Leavin' us out of it was the only smart thing Squall did; if he hadn't, he'd have brought the Galbadians down on us like nobody's business. So unless you really wanna see your friends back at Garden get blown up sometime soon, you'd better be grateful for that."

Zell clenched his fists, glaring daggers at the other SeeD. "There somethin' you wanna say to me?" he growled.

Jeck's air remained as haughty as ever. "I've _been_ sayin' things to you, champ. You been listening?"

"That's enough!" Quistis declared, stepping between the two of them. "Regardless of Squall's actions, there's nothing we can do to help anyone as long as we're stuck on this facility. Until we're sent out, we have to be on our best behavior, and not let our emotions take control of us."

"We can't just sit around and wait!" Zell protested.

"What _else_ are we gonna do?" asked Irvine. "The Galbadians are gonna send us out soon anyway; we won't get anything by fighting our way through them." He shrugged. "Sit and wait is the best thing we can do right now."

"That's right," Quistis said. "There's no point in dwelling on this. Let's just focus on the next step."

"You mean finding Squall?" Nida asked. "Like, exactly what the Galbadians want us to do?"

"Hey!" Zell exclaimed. "No _way_ am I helping the Galbadians track down Squall!"

Jeck rolled his eyes. "Man, you really haven't been paying attention, have you?"

Zell rounded on the other SeeD, but this time it was Selphie who jumped in between them. "_HEY_!" she exclaimed. "Stop it! It's not gonna help anything if we keep fighting each other! First we gotta escape from this place, and then we can find Squall and help Rinoa, okay?"

Zell backed down. Jeck didn't seem particularly chastened, but he kept quiet. The room fell silent for a time, before the doors slid open and a Galbadian administrative officer stepped in.

"I'm instructed to inform you that you're to depart this facility at 10:00 precisely, as per the plan discussed. In the mean time, you're to be briefed on the Sorceress by our senior scientist in the magical field."

Another man had entered the room behind him; a tall individual with a harsh expression and greying hair. His hands were hidden in the pockets of his lab coat, which was closed in such a manner as to completely hide whatever he might be wearing underneath, save for the bottoms of grey pants and a pair of fairly nice rubber shoes.

"Good day," he greeted. "My name is Jesir Nells Vaider. Some of you may be familiar with me, or perhaps even my work. I've dedicated much of my life to the study of magical and para-magcial phenomena, and unfortunately what could well have been the crowning achievement of my career has just escaped from my laboratory."

"You were doing _research_?" Zell demanded. "On Rinoa?" He clearly meant to say more; but for a few short seconds, he was lost for words. "...You sick bastard!" he eventually exclaimed. "What gives you the right?"

The doctor sighed. "Oh, yes, this again. While I could stand here and justify my actions to you, I simply don't feel the need. Ultimately, as an officer of Galbadia, I follow my orders, and now I am here to help you follow yours. That's all that matters for the moment."

Quistis bit back her first six or so responses. "...Fine," she said, curtly. "What do you have to say?"

"You undoubtedly know the capabilities and disposition of your Commander Leonhart far better than I," said Vaider, "so I'll address my attention to the Sorceress. Now, there are two possibilities as to what her condition will be should you find her; she may be too weak from her experience here to put up any sort of resistance at all, or she may have sufficiently recovered to put most or all of her abilities to use. Given her resilience, there's unlikely to be any middle ground; and the quicker you recover her, the more likely she will be in the former, more manageable condition. I must emphasize that for this reason, it is in your own best interests to find her as quickly as possible."

Quistis was devoting quite a bit of her brainpower to the cause of not screaming at the man with his cold, heartless tone; but Nida seemed to have a fair grip on what he was actually saying. "Do you know something about her abilities that we don't?"

"Yes," he replied. "I imagine I know quite a bit that you don't. But what is most relevant to us here is that the Sorceress' powers and her normal physical status are very intricately connected. The trauma she has been exposed to here in our laboratories appears to have stimulated her powers far beyond their normal levels; and given that my research subject will be absent during her recovery, I am unable to determine conclusively whether the effect is temporary. I speculate that the Sorceress may complete her recovery as a far more powerful magical force than she had previously been."

"Hey, stop calling her 'the Sorceress,' all right?" Zell demanded. "She's got a name, you know! She's a human being!"

"Well, that's the most interesting part, in fact," said Vaider. "Certainly she was, once, human. However, the Sorceress powers have been known to have profound and unpredictable effects on an individual, physically and psychologically. There is no guarantee that the individual who recovers will be at all human, or bear any great resemblance to the person you knew."

"That's just because of what you did to her!" growled Zell.

"Not entirely. I did not _make_ her a Sorceress, although I admit that my research did inadvertently aggravate her condition, a side effect I was not anticipating. So I cannot avoid partial responsibility; you are correct."

"Is that all you can say for yourself?"

"Zell," Quistis snapped. "You're not helping anything."

"I offer no defense for my actions," Vaider said. "You may judge me however you wish; it's of little concern to me. What is of concern is that the Sorceress be prevented from causing serious damage, now that she is free from confinement. If you do not recover her quickly, she will certainly have the magical ability to inflict serious catastrophe. What her mental disposition will be is unclear, but I am far from optimistic."

There was silence then for several seconds. The eight SeeDs' expressions varied across a fairly wide spectrum, but their actual dispositions were not too different.

"Is that all?" Quistis asked cooly.

"The aim of my research was to devise a means to counter the Sorceress' power," said Vaider. "I intend to continue in that endeavor using the data I have already collected; it is possible that I may find results that will be useful to you. However, I have none at this time."

Quistis nodded. "Then I think we're done here."

"Very well." The doctor turned and left.

"_Man_!" Zell exploded, delivering a vicious jab punch to the air in front of him as soon as the SeeDs were alone again. "Can you believe that guy? Talkin' about Rinoa like that, like she's...some frickin _specimen_!"

Jeck snorted, but Quistis jumped in before he could speak. "We'll be leaving shortly," she declared. "Make sure your gear's in order and your GF's equipped. I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities for action soon enough."

Thankfully, no one offered further comment.

A little more than a year earlier, Squall had carried an unconscious Rinoa all the way from Fishermans Horizon into Esthar. Perhaps it was simply that the previous episode had faded into the past, but he seemed to be having a much more difficult time of it now, as he trekked northeast into the southern Lanker region with Rinoa once again slung over his back.

It felt as if he'd been walking for hours, but since it was barely noon according to the sun, much of the perception had to be in his head. Still, his shoulders and legs were aching, and despite his concerns over Galbadian pursuit, he decided to pause and rest. Setting Rinoa carefully down in the grass, he sat beside her and contemplated whether his GF could provide a better strength-junction.

"We can't stay put very long," he said, equally to Rinoa and to himself. "If the Galbadians haven't found the hovercraft yet, they will soon. Our only chance is to keep moving."

Rinoa didn't answer. Squall thought she was conscious, but it was hard to tell; her eyes fluttered open and closed, but never seemed to focus on anything, and her body had been totally limp ever since he had taken her from Battleship Island.

"...I wish I knew what was wrong with you," he told her. "I can't even guess what that damn doctor did to you. I wish I could've been there sooner. I never should have left your side, let you go off to Timber on your own...what was I thinking?" He seemed to remember there had been an explanation, one that had sounded perfectly reasonable to him at the time, but now he could not for the life of him recall what it had been. "I'm sorry, Rinoa. I failed you. I'll never let that happen again."

_I said that already,_ he thought. ..._Dammit, I don't even know if she can hear me. What good are my promises, anyway; I'm here now, and she looks just as bad as ever! I'm __**still**__ not able to help her._

Squall didn't know much about medicine, but still he attempted to check her vital signs. She was breathing; the breaths were somewhat ragged, but regular enough. And she had a pulse, which made sense because people without pulses don't normally breathe. And she might or might not be in a semiconscious state, or some kind of delirium. Squall tried to remember back to the first-aid courses he had taken in Garden, but about the only thing that came to him was how to cast a Cure spell.

_...__**Cure**__._ The blue aura surrounded Rinoa, and seemed to have no effect at all. The same proved true for a Curaga and Esuna spell; whatever was wrong with Rinoa; it was more than simple magic could cure.

How long had it been since she had eaten anything? Squall only knew that she hadn't had any sort of nourishment since he had taken her, and that he didn't have any to give her. And he'd been on the run for nearly a day, now.

"Dammit!" Squall said out loud. He should have thought of that earlier. How was he going to bring Rinoa back to health when they were out in the middle of the countryside and he didn't even have any food? What had he been thinking?

Of course, the problem was precisely that he _hadn't_ been thinking. He'd been so busy resolving to protect Rinoa and pillorying himself for not doing so that he hadn't thought for a moment about the things he'd have to do to accomplish this goal.

He was well into a whole new round of self-chastisement over this point before he realized that the best course of action would be to actually _start_ thinking.

_Okay. Rinoa needs food and medical attention. I'll probably need to find a town somewhere nearby. It'll have to be a pretty small town, one that's isolated from the Galbadians and where I can hide out until Rinoa has recovered enough to travel again._

Winhill was the first place to come into mind, but he quickly dismissed it; the town was too far west of him by now, and it didn't have any kind of hospital. Unfortunately, that one town composed about the full extent of his knowledge as to the of the southern Galbadia continent.

He took a few minutes to agonize about the problem, until a solution called for attention from the north; a train whistle, distant but unmistakably clear.

_Trains only whistle when they're passing through a town,_ Squall thought. _I must be pretty close after all._

Quickly getting up, he again hauled Rinoa onto his back, and ignored the protests of his own weary muscles. "You ready?" he asked of her. "Come on. Hopefully, we can have you feeling better soon."


	27. Maneuvers

The large, semi-circular office of the President of Galbadia had been decorated with a mind to the fact that it was the workplace of one of the world's most powerful men. Vinzer Deling had assembled quite a collection of artworks depicting great figures of Monterosa's history, including a few of himself, standing triumphantly in the middle of Timber Square or at his inaguration on the balcony just upstairs. But Lord-General Naraka, with his small frame and generally reserved demeanor, was not a man who had much presence, and the grandiose accommodations seemed ill-suited for him. At the moment, he was sitting at the heavy Timber-oak desk that had been made – in a great gesture of irony – for President Deling, his predecessor, and reading; a visitor entering the room might have trouble noticing him at first. Still, the scowl he wore on his face was enough to unsettle just about anyone who observed it long enough.

The appearance of Janis with yet another dispatch was not likely to improve his mood, regardless of the news he had to deliver. Yet the president's aide knew enough not to waste any time worrying about such things, because the president _certainly_ didn't like to be kept waiting.

Naraka looked up immediately as the other man stepped into the room. "What is it?" he snapped.

"We've received another dispatch from the DSRC, Mr. President," Janis said. "Directly from Administrator Derrick. He informs us that he has dispatched a recovery team to return the Sorceress and Commander Leonhart to Galbadian custody."

"The idiot couldn't keep the SeeDs in his custody when they were confined on his facility; what makes him think he can catch them now?"

"He said that he hopes to solve the problem with resources already allocated to the DSRC, and therefore spare other Galbadian forces from unnecessary burden."

"Well, it's _far_ too late for that," said Naraka; he had turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. "What else?"

"That was the whole of the message, sir."

"Fine. Make certain they keep a close eye on the eight SeeDs which they _did_ manage to keep in custody; if any one of them manages to get off that facility, the Administrator can expect a swift termination of his command, no matter the results of his current blunder." He scribbled his signature on the paper he had been reading. "Deliver this to the Supreme Forces Commander. What's the status of our military preparations?"

"Command is mobilizing our naval forces on the East coast as we speak, and our land forces are on ready alert. General Tolmar signaled from Galbadia Garden; she wishes to know what if any action she ought to take."

Naraka nodded. "She is to suspend that Garden's autonomy, effective immediately, and close the campus to prevent any students departing. And she's to make clear that any hostile action will be met on our part with decisive force."

Janis nodded. "Yes, Mr. President."

Now, the Lord-General stood and turned to the window looking over the Central Square of Deling City. "Everything is coming together for them," he mused. "The Sorceress is free, and they could have dozens of agents roaming about my countryside; but they haven't won yet. I'm _not_ Deling, and I won't allow myself to fall into his trap again. I _will_ contain SeeD's threat, or I'll destroy it; and nothing's going to get in my way." He turned around, frowning slightly at Janis as if he had expected the man not there. "See to your business. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Mr. President." Janis nodded, and left the room.

"_Look, Foster, I had my doubts about letting you go after this story in the first —"_

Besides talking on the radiophone, Miranda was scanning through a list of Dollet and Galbadian officials, a series of articles from the _Times_ and competing papers regarding Galbadian naval activity in the south, typing up a day summary in her notebook, and finishing off the lunch she had picked upon arriving at the Lapin Beach Plaza. None of this prevented her from cutting Blake off before he had even finished his first sentence.

"Look, I've been all over town looking for military and government people who might talk to me, I've called half the people in the Galbadian Southern Fleet, the Joint Command Office in Deling City, the radio monitor stations; even the Press Ministry wouldn't say anything! There's no way I'm going to get anything if I'm stuck here in Dollet; they're giving me the big stonewall, and the only way around it is for me to head down south and see what's going on for myself."

"_It's just out of the question, okay? We don't have the resources right now to —"_

"I'll pay out of pocket," Miranda interrupted again. "I'll rent a car if I have to. Hell, my uncle's got a pretty new 600-series that he barely uses; I could just borrow that. Just give me the go-ahead, and you won't hear from me again until I've got the story."

"_Well, damn, Foster, that almost makes it worthwhile right there. But I'm not going to send one of my best junior reporters —"_

"I'm one of your best reporters?" teased Miranda.

"— _after some pirate story when we've got the whole Galbadian military up in arms about...whatever the hell they're on about here. We need you in town for this, okay?"_

"What if I said there was a connection?" Miranda asked.

Blake was actually silent for a moment. His response was, however, incredulous. _"What?"_

"A connection between the NALCON and the pirate story. Think about it; Galbadia's been handling these pirates way more seriously than's normal, and now they've upped the National Alert and won't even talk about why! I'm telling you, Blake, something fishy is going on here."

"_Cute pun. Still, I —"_

"Pun?" asked Miranda. "You mean 'fishy'? Come on, Blake, pirates and fish have only the most tangental connection to each other; it'd be a pun if I were talking about illegal whaling off Centra or something."

"_Whales aren't fish, Miranda."_

"Well, they're a lot closer than pirates are!"

Blake audibly sighed. _"Foster, just because the Galbadians are clamming up now that they're at a higher alert condition doesn't tell us that there's a link between the two stories!"_

"I know!" Miranda insisted. "That's why I've got to keep investigating! Blake, I like to think I have pretty good instincts on these things. Now, I've been working a few different stories for you now; wouldn't you say I usually don't go off like this without some good reason?"

There was a moment's silence on the other end of the line. _"Oh, what the hell. But I want you back in town by the end of the week. We need more people who can use 'tangental' in a sentence."_

"Blake, you're the greatest." Miranda hung up, and began picking up her things. It was only early afternoon, so she should be able to catch the 16:30 train to Timber, get set up that evening, and be ready to get started by tomorrow morning. She set to calculating whether or not she would have enough time to stop at home and pick up some things, but her train of thought was interrupted when she nearly collided with another young woman. "Woah!" she exclaimed. "Sorry; guess I wasn't —" Her apology was interrupted briefly as she noticed that the other young woman was dressed in the unmistakable blue-and-black uniform of a SeeD from Balamb Garden. "— paying attention there."

"Oh, that's all right," replied the SeeD. "...Hey, I just got into town; I was wondering what's been going on around here."

Miranda shrugged. "Oh, you know. martial law's over, but the troops are still here; curfew's been lifted, but we're _encouraged_ to stay off the streets at night..." She nodded towards the coastline. "But, you know, they finally cleaned up Lapin Beach, anyway."

"Anything special going on just recently?" the SeeD pressed. "...They don't really tell us much about our job when they hire us, so we're all just guessing, you know?"

Miranda almost frowned; there was more to this SeeD's inquiry than simple curiosity, she thought. "Well, there's been more fighting up in the cliffs, I guess. Most people in the city don't pay too much attention to that anymore; a few partisans are just gonna annoy the Galbadians, not do anything serious. Especially with SeeD working with the G-men, it's pretty hopeless."

A faint shadow crossed over the SeeD's face, but she didn't comment on what she might have been thinking. "That it? I was hoping for something a bit more interesting."

_Oh, yeah,_ said Miranda to herself. _This girl's fishing for something._ "Sorry, can't help you. If something else is going on, I'd kind of like to know about it myself. What with, you know, living here and all."

The SeeD nodded too; and now Miranda thought she was giving her a rather strange look as well. But the other woman smiled pleasantly, and the impression disappeared. "Well, thanks anyway. I guess I'll figure out soon enough."

"Hope it works out for you," Miranda agreed. As she was about to leave, she stopped to offer her hand. "I'm Miranda, by the way."

The SeeD took it, still friendly. "Linnis. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah. See you around, maybe."

"'Bye."

And the two parted ways. A moment later, as Miranda was replaying the encounter in her head, a thought occurred to her. She had been considering what it meant in SeeD's relationship with the Galbadians if SeeDs had to turn to outside sources for clues as to what their assignments were. Both Garden and the Galbadians were notoriously tight-lipped about such things, and even the newly arrived SeeDs would generally not be very talkative. Miranda wondered if this particular SeeD might have even been _spying_ on her employers. Although she certainly wouldn't be able to cite any of this in the paper, it was something worthy of follow-up.

What she realized around then was that, in the course of the conversation, _she_ had been hedging her words as well. So much so, in fact, that she had made no mention of the Galbadians raising the NALCON or the many speculations that were very common knowledge about what might be the cause. This might have made Linnis somewhat suspicious of her, as well.

_I guess both of us need to brush up our techniques a bit,_ she thought, shaking her head. Then she went back to the debate of whether to return home or head straight for the rail station, or perhaps look after getting her uncle's car. Whatever was going on with SeeD, she had pirates to catch, and a theory to prove. Still, she filed away the SeeD's name and inquiries for a later time; something gave her the feeling that she had hit on something else to pressure Blake about in the days to come.


	28. Integrity

If Laguna moved his right foot about five centimeters to the left, the floor would become partly translucent, but there would be a ripple pattern of more opaque patches radiating out from beneath the soles of his shoes. If he moved it any farther, the floor would become almost completely transparent, and if he moved it back to the right, it would be fully opaque again. He had been studying the phenomenon for the past eleven minutes.

"The Defense Minister's here to see you," Kiros said. He had been standing by the entrance, watching Laguna and being too bored to be exasperated, prior to this announcement.

"Huh?" Laguna looked up. The floor shifted back to opacity. "...Oh! Yeah; uh...what's he want?"

"He says it's about a naval alert," Kiros replied.

"Alert?" Laguna asked. "What's goin' on?"

"That's probably what he's here to tell you," reasoned Kiros.

Laguna nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, good point. Ward, show him in!"

"..." Ward pushed a button. The doors opened, and one of the door guards stepped in.

"The Defense Minister, Mr. Bin-Dan Gho, here to see the President, Mr. Laguna Loire, at the President's pleasure, sir," said the door guard, standing stiffly at attention.

"Yeah, yeah," said Laguna. "Look, do you really have to say that every time?"

The other man didn't respond, as was usual when Laguna tried to question members of his honor guard. Rather, he stepped out of the way, and Defense Minister Gho stepped in. Standing only up to the level of Laguna's shoulder, Gho was naturally heavyset and also somewhat overweight; but he carried with him a presence that easily eclipsed that of the President, even when Laguna was not wearing a casual T-shirt and slacks opposite the Defense Minister's formal government robes.

"Greetings, Mr. President," said Gho, nodding. "I am here on a matter of some concern to the security of our nation."

"What's up?" Laguna asked.

An assistant of the Defense Minister began setting up a display beside Gho as he spoke. "For the past few days, we have been tracking an unusually large force of Galbadian warships in the North Centra region. The Galbadian naval office claims that the operation is simply an effort to break up a pirate ring, but the levels of force deployed seem disproportionate to that task." He took a pointer and began indicating locations on the display. "So far, we have tracked four distinct battle groups — three cruiser-led, one battlecruiser — entering Centra from the Meridian Sea; they have since moved steadily eastward, and have now deployed a number of reconnaissance balloons, which are also moving east along the northern cross-Centra jetstream. For the moment, they remain in international waters, however a fifth force, a missile group, is moving southward from —"

"Woah!" Laguna held up his hands. "Why do you guys always do this to me? There's a bunch of Galbadian ships in Centra; that's what you're trying to tell me, right?"

Gho nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. Moreover, Galbadia has just raised its National Alert condition to level Three, and indications show that a separate naval alert has been issued for its forces on the east coast." He indicated two points on Galbadia's eastern coast, in the north and south. "Our intelligence also indicates that all three of Galbadia's battleship groups are preparing to depart from their ports in South Lanker and Monterosa. This combined with increased Galbadian troop movement into the Dollet and Timber areas —"

"Aah!" Laguna held his hands higher. "You're doing it again!"

"I apologize, Mr. President." Gho was very formal and not very apologetic. "Sir, it is the conclusion of the general staff that Galbadia's actions are distinctly provocative, and with our naval forces deployed as they are now, we may not be able to adequately defend our shores against attack. I am forced to agree that this assessment is a serious possibility."

Laguna frowned. "Wait...you think Galbadia's gonna attack us?"

"It would be too presumptuous of me to draw that conclusion, Mr. President," said Gho. "However, I do find these developments to be serious cause for concern, especially as we have no alternative explanation for this clearly belligerent behavior." He changed the display to be centered on Esthar. "With respect, Mr. President, I recommend that we redeploy our First and Third Naval Forces, with the battleships _Sandau_ and _Kaga_, into the Kashkabald Sea to head off any possible Galbadian assault, in concert with upgrading our land forces to Readiness Level Two."

"Uh..." Laguna looked uncertainly to Kiros and Ward. "You really think all that's necessary?"

Gho nodded. "Respectfully, Mr. President, I think these are the minimum reasonable steps to take under the circumstances. I can give the order immediately with your approval."

Laguna stood there for a moment looking thoughtful, though most of his thoughts went towards wondering if he should even try to act like he could rival the Defense Minister's knowledge of the situation. "...Right," he said. "Yeah, okay. Take those...er, actions you just said. You have my approval."

Gho looked to his assistant, who handed Laguna a clipboard with a piece of paper on it. "The orders, Mr. President. Initial at the top and sign at the bottom, if it be your pleasure."

"Yeah, yeah." Laguna took the paper, initialed, and signed. Then he handed it back to the assistant, who went back to pick up the display.

The Defense minister bowed. "Thank you, Mr. President. I will of course appraise you of any further developments."

And he left.

"Laguna..." Kiros frowned. "Do you know what you just did?"

"Yeah!" Laguna replied. "Gho wanted to move those two battleships into the Kashkabald Sea and increase the readiness level of our ground forces and maybe start another world war too, but what the hell difference does it make, because those guys already have their minds made up before they walk in the door!" He flopped down into his seat, causing the floor to flicker transparent for half a moment before reverting to the mostly opaque. "...I'm _so_ tired of this, you know?" he said. "Maybe I should just quit, and let someone take over who can actually _do_ something with this job. I mean, what's a single good thing that ever came from me being in this office?"

"...," Ward offered.

"And the time you saved Ellone from the Galbadians," Kiros added.

"...," agreed Ward.

"And when you helped SeeD defeat Ultimecia, and saved everyone from the Lunatic Pandora," said Kiros. "We all get frustrated sometimes, Laguna. But that's no reason just to walk away."

"Well, what else can I do?" Laguna demanded. "Like you guys always tell me; I'm just a figurehead Chan keeps around so people will like the government more."

Kiros and Ward glanced at each other. Normally, they were trying to talk Laguna down from some harebrained scheme, using arguments not unlike he was using now. With the shoe finally on the other foot, it was maybe time for a different approach. "Laguna, the Parliament's never gonna change," Kiros said. "They benefit from the way things are now. But so far, all you've done is try to talk to them; and when you can't convince them, you just do what they tell you. That makes the people think you're just some spineless puppet. Now, the people have to elect the Parliament. If you're going to get anything done, you gave to get the people on your side."

Laguna sighed. "The last time I had the people on my side, they elected me president."

"Maybe you should start _acting_ like their president," Kiros suggested. "You don't have any legislative powers, but people still see you as their leader. You should try leading him."

"So..." Laguna was thoughtful. "Instead of making my addresses to the Parliament, I should try talking directly to the people of Esthar?" He jumped up; the floor became transparent, but Laguna kept his balance. "Ward, start writing a speech! Tell the people of Esthar that I'm sorry that I've been so preoccupied lately, and I want to initiate some serious government reforms!"

"Uh." Kiros held up a hand. "Laguna, I don't think you should start right off by talking about reforming the gov—"

"This'll be _great_, guys!" Laguna exclaimed. "Just like old times, except we live in a palace!" He began flipping through the papers on his desk, sending many of them flying to the floor. "Okay, the first thing I wanna do is..."

Kiros and Ward exchanged another look, and shrugged. Producing a clipboard, Ward began dutifully scribbling down the gist of Laguna's rambling.

"Here we go again," Kiros muttered.

It was already well into the evening by the time the Galbadian scouting force had made landfall on the tiny island where the Galbadia SeeDs had found the first evidence of their prey. Now a dozen landing craft had come ashore, and easily that many small warships held position in the deeper waters offshore.

As the four SeeDs picked their way through the scattered debris on the rocky inlet's shore, Keri could have hardly felt more out of her element. Not only was her specialty with linguistics and computers rather than shoreside detective work, but she had grown up in a Monterosa farming community, several hundred kilometers from any standing water. Beaches were new to her, especially the sort filled with sharp rocks and debris that could cut up her legs quite nastily and even punch right through her boots if she didn't watch her step. She was staying very near the Galbadian landing craft, analyzing various pieces of wreckage that the others thought interesting enough to bring back; although she had no idea how she might determine whether any of them came from a pirate ship or not.

"Judging by the type of wreckage we're seeing, it looks like she was some kind of ocean clipper," said one of the Galbadian engineers whose name she didn't know. "There's little enough debris that she could still be seaworthy; which makes sense, because...well, she ain't here."

"Any chance she sank?" asked their Galbadian supervisor.

The engineer shook his head. "Water out there don't get deeper than twenty meters. We'd have bumped into her, coming ashore."

"Besides, we would have been able to spot them from the balloon images," said Keri.

"The balloons should have been able to spot them afloat, too," the Galbadian reminded her. "But there's still no sign of them anywhere except for this debris." He turned to the engineer. "Get all this stuff collected in the hold of the _1125_. I want to go over everything we've got with a microscope, see if it tells us anything."

"Aye-aye, sir." The engineer headed off to carry out the instruction.

"They doubled back on us," Tavin said, nodding towards a section of the horizon marked by a dark, lightning-filled cloud. "Headed southwest, into the storm where our balloons couldn't follow."

The officer frowned. "You have evidence of that, son, or is it just a hunch?"

Tavin stood up taller, fixing the Galbadian with a challenging glare. "It's the smart move, he replied. "I'd do it, if I were them."

Keri, suddenly wishing to distance herself from the conversation, became very interested in a metal plate that was lying nearby.

"Heading into a south Centra storm is suicide," the officer declared. "They'd be dashed against the rocks. More likely they headed northeast, striking for clear waters while the wind carried our balloons to the south."

"If they're trying to ditch pursuit, they won't want to head for clear waters," Tavin retorted. "You said yourselves they like to operate down here; I bet they think they can brave the storms, and I'm telling you that's where they went."

"I can't recommend that we sail right into the middle of a minor hurricane!" exclaimed the Galbadian. "We'd lose half our fleet! And regardless of how well these fugitives know the terrain, it's simply _not possible_ to navigate a south Centra rainstorm, especially with a damaged ship!" He narrowed his eyes at the SeeDs' leader. "When you're done here, I want some _real_ suggestions about where they went."

As he headed off down the beach, Tavin glowered after him. "What the hell does he think I was giving him?" he demanded.

A couple of things had caught Keri's attention at about the same time. For one, she had noticed that the Galbadian had referred to the pirates as 'fugitives' in the middle of his rebuke; she didn't think she had ever heard that particular term used for them before, although she supposed it technically fit. The other thing was a bit stranger.

"Tavin," she said, holding up the metal plate she had been studying. "There's something weird about this thing."

The plate was trapezoidal, probably some sort of hull panel that was very slightly curved to match the shape of the ship. And it had writing on it - a series of Centra numerals which were presumably part of the vessel's hull number or other designation; and a completely different set of characters along the top edge.

"These lines here are an early Kashkabald mathematical form," she explained. "It fell out of use way before modern ships were in use, but it seems to be the basis for a lot of para-magical machinery. I can't really tell you more than that without translating what it says, but I'm pretty sure this wouldn't show up on any normal pirate ship."

Tavin was frowning; though perhaps not, she thought, at the piece of metal. "So what _would_ it show up on?" he asked.

"Well, the only thing I've ever seen it on was the equipment down in the MD level of Garden," Keri replied. "But I dunno; if this ship _is_ from Centra, this could mean anything."

"The pirate ship's supposed to be a Galbadian model," Tavin reminded her.

Keri hadn't thought of that. "...you're right," she said. "You think this isn't from the pirate ship after all?" Tavin didn't respond, but Keri could see that _something_ was going on in his head. "Okay, what _are_ you thinking?" she asked. "You're kind of creeping me out."

"I'm thinking that Galbadian guy was acting awfully suspicious," Tavin replied. "I mean, like, suspicious of _us_." He shook his head, turning away and stalking off down the beach. "What the hell is going on here...?"

Left alone, a distinctly concerned Keri turned back to the piece of metal, and wished she had a good archaeo-Kashk dictionary on her person.


	29. Leadership

The town was a cluster of some five hundred individuals by a rail station that most trains would roll straight past without a second thought. There were only two — one a passenger train that came every day, one a freight train that came twice a week — that would actually stop at this sleepy east Lanker community, and most of the traffic involved farm goods being sent into the city to be sold. Though it was technically part of the territories annexed by Galbadia during its invasion of Timber, the occupants did not particularly care whose flag was flying from their courthouse, as national politics concerned them little and no soldiers, Timber or Galbadian, had ever found cause to linger there for long.

The fact that it was just about everything that Squall could have hoped for was mostly luck; he had become so desperate that he probably would have marched straight into Deling City, had that been where he found himself.

"Can you help me?" he demanded while barging through the doors to the local clinic. "She needs medical attention, right away!"

There were two individuals in the waiting room, a young man and older woman, both dressed in hospital garb. For a moment, they just stood and stared at him; and Squall wondered if the Galbadians might have already warned them to be on the lookout for someone in a fur coat carrying a Sorceress. But if they had, it was too late to do anything anyway.

"She needs food; she hasn't eaten in days, and she's really weak, and —" Squall caught himself in midsentence; beyond 'she was tortured by government scientists', he really didn't know what else was wrong with her. "Please, just help her!"

The two attendants glanced at each other, then back to Squall. "Uh...," the young man said, "...what's your...name and —"

"Follow me," the woman instructed, starting for the door marked **PATIENTS**. Squall needed no further invitation.

The woman led him down a short hall to a care ward with two dozen or so beds lined up against each wall; most were unoccupied, though here and there one would have curtains drawn around it and the beeping of vitals monitors came from within. "Just set her down there," she said, pointing to the nearest bed to the door as she picked up a telephone on the wall and dialed a number that Squall didn't bother to observe. "...Amey? It looks like I sent you home too early; a patient just came in. ...Yes, right away; I'm sorry if I interrupted your supper. ...Oh, good. So you'll come right over, then? ...Wonderful. Goodbye." She turned back to Squall. "I'll have to ask you to wait outside now," she said.

Squall caught himself before refusing; it was best, he reasoned, not to make any more of a scene than he had already. "Will she be all right?"

"I'll have to examine her first," the woman said. "I'll tell you when I know. Please, wait outside."

Hesitantly, Squall nodded. At a loss for anything else to say, he awkwardly backed out the door; and, ignoring the fact that the young man at the desk was clearly staring at him, he took a seat in the corner of the waiting room.

For the first time since he had taken Rinoa from the DSRC, everything seemed to be standing still. The arrival of another young woman, who hurried through the door towards the care ward with only a single quick glance at Squall, demonstrated that time was in fact progressing forward at a reasonable pace; but Squall had some difficulty accepting that, after two straight days of running, he suddenly had nothing to do.

He could eat, he thought. Having not eaten in two days, one would imagine that he would be starving by now; and without the GFs shoring up his physiology, he almost certainly would be. Yet for all he knew about the dangers of becoming physically dependent on the GF, Squall couldn't bring himself to get any farther from Rinoa than he was at that instant. Simply having her out of his sight was already beginning to weigh on him.

Now that he had time to start thinking about things, Squall did begin to wonder how much he could trust these people. This town was part of Galbadia; would they discover his or Rinoa's identity, and alert the G-Army? Would he be able to fight his way out in his present condition if they did? Where could he go, so that the Galbadians couldn't follow him?

It didn't fully register to him how tired he was until he noticed that the clock on the opposite wall had jumped from **20:08** to **21:13** in what seemed like the space of only a few moments. Alarmed, Squall sat bolt upright, resisting the urge to dash into the care ward and make sure that Rinoa hadn't been taken away while he was dozing off. His action seemed to draw the attention of the other individual in the room; this was not the young man whom had been there before, but the young woman who had hurried into the care ward an hour and a half earlier. Frowning at him, she opened a small refrigerator and produced a bottle of soda.

"Here," she said, offering him the drink. "I'm sorry; we're out of coffee, so this is all we have."

Squall did consider the possible range of ulterior motives she could have for offering him the drink, but not for long. Seeing it caused him to realize just how powerfully thirsty he was. "...Thanks," he muttered, taking it and fumbling with the cap.

The other woman hesitated. "She...the girl you brought in, uh, with you, we think she'll be okay. It looks like she's just exhausted, so all she really needs is rest. Dr. Wayfield wants to do a few more tests on her tomorrow because of some kind of weird readings we get from her nervous system, but they shouldn't be any big deal."

Squall nodded, sinking back into his seat. His relief was short-lived, however, as a new thought jumped to mind. "How long?" he asked, before he could think of a more coherent way to phrase his inquiry.

"We'd like to keep her here for the rest of the week, I'd guess," she replied. "Though you'd have to ask Dr. Wayfield to be sure." She sat down next to Squall, with a somewhat concerned expression. "Are _you_ all right? No offense, but you look like you carried her all the way from Esthar."

"I feel like I did," said Squall, rather than clarifying his actual point of origin. "...Do you have anything to eat?"

She nodded, rising again. "I can run over to the general store and get something, no problem." Turning to do so, she paused. "I'm Amey, by the way."

Squall nodded, for a moment thinking about introducing himself in turn. "...Nice to meet you," he said.

Amey's eyebrows twitched, but she didn't force the issue. Flashing a friendly smile, she turned and left Squall completely alone in the waiting room.

It was well past sundown, but no one of the SeeD team felt at all inclined towards rest. Even if they had, the dozen-strong force of Galbadian soldiers would have put an end to such ambitions quickly enough.

"Registry DSRC-024," reported one of the soldiers, examining the ship's identity number. "She's the one, all right."

"Any idea how long it's been here?" Quistis asked.

"Given the distance we are from the facility, it would've taken about six hours to get here, minimum." The soldier glanced over the vehicle again. "Engine looks like it was getting pushed pretty hard, so that seems like a fair bet."

"So he probably came ashore sometime yesterday morning," said Nida. "There's no town nearby; which way do you think he headed?"

"Well, he's been to Winhill before," Quistis mused, "so he might have headed west for that reason. There isn't much else in the southwest part of the continent; it'd be a good place to hide."

"If I wanted to hide, I would've headed for Centra," Nida observed.

Zell was pacing. He'd been doing that pretty much constantly for the past few hours, even on the transport at sea; pacing, shadowboxing, even fidgeting when he'd had to sit down. He honestly felt as if he might explode if he didn't keep moving. Explode and probably kill somebody, most likely the nearest man in a Galbadian uniform.

_Man I can't believe we're doing this, helping the Galbadians hunt down Squall instead of helping Squall and kicking their goddamn asses back to Deling City or better straight to __**hell**__ for what they did to Rinoa —_ He threw a wild punch at nothing at all. Keeping in motion didn't do much to stop the thoughts careening through his head, but it seemed to make him feel a little better. And random physical outbursts could usually interrupt his train of thought for a moment or two.

A second later, he realized that Paige had been standing not too far away from him at the time. Although he hadn't been in any danger of actually striking her, she did recoil at his action.

"Um —" Zell quickly attempted to gain composure. "S-sorry."

Paige smiled, faintly, for just an instant; but she still looked a little frightened.

"I was just...gettin' kinda carried away, there," Zell tried again. "I should've been payin' more attention; I just —"

"I-it's okay," Paige interrupted, haltingly. "I mean, I know how bad this all is, and..." She trailed off. "So...don't worry about it."

Zell frowned; an alternate explanation for Paige's expression was beginning to dawn for him. "Hey, you okay with all this?" he asked. "I mean, it sure is something, for your first mission 'n all."

She sighed, starting to sit down before she realized there was nothing to sit on but damp grass. "It feels like I've been a SeeD forever," she said. "...and I've just forgot all the stuff I learned...how to handle situations like this. Except really, I-I never knew how in the first place."

Zell knew this was the time to be sensitive, to reassure her somehow. He could remember on his own first SeeD mission, when they had just barely escaped from Timber and it had seemed like the Galbadians might attack Garden because of his stupid gaffe; and where he had drawn his assurance from that everything could still turn out all right.

"Hey, don't worry!" he said confidently. "Just follow Squall's lead, and everything'll —"

He cut himself off. _Oops._

An uncomfortable silence followed, which was eventually broken by the entry of another figure into the discussion.

"You know, I never could get what the deal was with Squall," Karenna said, joining the two of them. "I mean, everyone in Garden admires him, but since I met him all he ever did was stare at the wall, or the floor, or a nearby rock, or something. Kinda left me wondering if he could care less about any of us."

"Hey, he's just got a lot on his mind lately!" Zell said, immediately defensive. "I mean, if the Galbadians captured _my_ girlfriend and started doin' all sorts of experiments on her, I'd —" He cut himself off again, as he realized that his girlfriend was standing right in front of him and bearing a slightly wide-eyed expression.

"Well, yeah, no kidding," said Karenna. "But this must've been sort of an issue in the Ultimecia campaign, and I keep hearing how he did a pretty good job leading you guys through that. Now it seems like the most responsible thing he did was when he run off so you guys wouldn't take the fall for him."

"You callin' Squall irresponsible?" Zell demanded. He tried not to be _too_ annoyed, because Karenna was Paige's friend, but his efforts at self-control were meeting with only moderate success.

"What did you want Squall to do?" Paige asked.

Karenna shrugged. "I dunno. Something inspirational. Something leaderlike; you know, _something_. I mean, he did that sort of thing a year ago, right?"

Paige nodded. "Yeah. I mean...when he had to."

"But now, he barely even talks to you guys. I mean, ever. And when he decided to rescue the Sorceress — uh, Rinoa — he didn't say a word to anyone. I mean, he could've at least discussed things with us before he went and beat up you and Quistis."

"Squall must've known what he was doing," Zell insisted, though not as forcefully as he thought he should. To his surprise, he was actually finding himself doubting Squall on that particular issue himself.

The younger SeeD looked noncommittal. "Well, I guess a leader's got to make quick decisions; and I'm sure to Hyne _I_ wouldn't have known what to do if I were in his shoes. Still, if somebody's leading me, I kind of have to trust that he knows where he's leading me to. And I'm just not sure Squall does."

"Maybe he just didn't have a choice," said Paige. "He's just doing what he has to."

"Yeah!" Zell jumped at this idea. However, somewhere at the back of his mind, the thought began to nag at him that, for whatever reason, there might be something dangerously wrong with the notion.

"All right, let's move out!" Quistis called, ending the discussion. "If there's no sign of Squall at the port, we'll check south Lanker; and hopefully he didn't head west." The SeeDs and Galbadians began to pile into the half-dozen all-terrain vehicles that had been given to them for the mission. "Let's see if we can make up for the lead he's got on us. Come on!"

Glancing at each other, the three SeeDs hurried to join them. Zell offered Paige what he hoped was a reassuring clap on the shoulder as he jumped into the back of the transport; and she smiled, somewhat less faintly, in return.


	30. Side Effects

_At first, Rinoa thought she was back in Time Compression. She __**was**__ back in Time Compression; the only world around her was a swirling mass of stars, except not stars but rather distinct moments of time reduced to single points of light and torn apart from each other. Time was no longer linear, but scattered all over the place in a completely unworkable, illogical jumble. Nothing could exist in this total disarray; no world, no life, nothing at all, because there was no time for anything to exist in. The world could take whatever form it liked, but it wouldn't matter because without time, no one would ever be able to see it, nor their minds be able to register any sensation or comprehend its meaning. Without time, there was nothing._

_But __**she**__ was there. The Sorceress was beyond time; she alone could exist in the compressed universe, with no world, no one, nothing else. She had that power and that curse; in the compressed world, there could only be her; and because there was no time, she would remain there, existing, forever._

_But there was not __**just**__ her, was there? Where were Squall, and all her friends? And where was the woman who caused all this? Where was Ultimecia?_

_The stars of time continued to dance about — how could they be moving if there was no time? — as she wondered this, and searched for the presence of the woman who sought to deny all existence, and must now have succeeded. But there was no one there but her._

_Only she existed._

_Rinoa gasped, but she had no breath. That was the answer; __**she**__ was Ultimecia._

_**Rinoa?**_

_She heard his voice in the distance. Squall's voice. As promised, he was waiting for her. If she came, she would find him, just like he said. She felt relieved; all she had to do was meet him there, and everything would be all right._

_A warm wind washed over her from the direction of the sea; and she was Rinoa again, as the illogical, impossible world of Time Compression had disappeared as if blown away by the breeze. A sweet aroma rose up around her, and she stood surrounded by some of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. She smiled. Everything was all right again._

_But where was he?_

_The orphanage, she realized, was nowhere to be seen. Nor the sea; though she was sure one had to be nearby. Nor was Squall; the only thing she could see was an endless carpet of flowers, stretching to the horizon in every direction._

_Somewhere in this gargantuan field, he was waiting for her; but she had no idea where to look._

_**Rinoa...**_

_His voice came from behind her, and very far away. She spun around and began to run towards him, the flowers gliding past her legs._ _**I'm coming!**_ _she called._ _**Please wait for me!**_

_She ran until she finally came to the edge of the field, and the ocean lay in front of her. But the breeze that came from these waters was not warm; within an instant, she felt chilled to the bone._

_**I'll be here...**__ Squall's voice seemed to be drifting in on this new, freezing wind; it seemed ghostly now, inhuman. Rinoa wanted to turn and run away._

_**Why are you doing this?**_ _she called._ _**I'm scared!**_

_The 'why' echoed back to her; and as she watched, the ocean seemed to evaporate into thin air. What had been the beach became the edge of a vast desert; and the wind that slammed her now was a dry heat that made her feel like a corpse._

_**I'll be 'waiting' here...**_

_**For what?**_ _she heard her voice ask. Another dry wind blew in from the desert; and the flowers all around her were beginning to die. Shaken loose from their stems, thousands of still-healthy petals were cast into the air._

_**I'll be waiting...for you...so...**_

_**I can't find you!**_ _Rinoa screamed, glancing frantically about the dying field. His voice was merely an echo now, rolling in from the distant mountains though the wind came from the opposite direction._

_**If you come here...**_ _Squall's voice replied; though she still could not know where it came from. __**You'll find me.**_

**I promise.**

_Those last two words were different somehow; they were louder, more resounding, and even made her flinch when she heard them. And they seemed to come from very near by, as if being carried with the next gust of wind._

_A mass of flower petals were now swirling around her. Reaching out, Rinoa caught one in her hand; then immediately let go, as it felt she was holding an active light bulb in her palm. The petal was gone; in its place was a single, white feather that glowed brightly as it rose slowly into the air, ignoring the strong wind that still blew past her. Then it was suddenly caught up in the wind, and disappeared into the sky._

_Thunder rolled in from the mountains now, and the wispy clouds were illuminated by bursts of lightning. The wind became even stronger now; and it seemed that the flowers themselves were in danger of being uprooted from the rocky ground. Rinoa wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, having no defense from the assault of nature. __**I'm sorry,**__ she whispered. __**I can't find you.**_

_And then, __**she**__ was being lifted off into the air. Two shining, ethereal wings emerged from her back, and she knew that she was shielded from the wind, the storm and whatever other force could harm her. She was the Sorceress._

_Then the wind slammed into her again. The ethereal wings had suddenly become very physically real, and she could feel the agony as the powerful wind tore the feathers, one by one, from these newly flesh-and-blood limbs; and she collapsed back to the earth in tears._

_The wind continued to ravage her until all trace of the wings were gone; there was merely a throbbing pain beneath her shoulder blades. Then it died away; and she realized that the flowers, too, were gone. Now she lay on nothing but barren rocks._

_There was the sound of metal striking stone, and in a flash of motion a gunblade fell from the sky and buried itself in the ground, bare meters away. Squall's gunblade. Too pained and weak to move, Rinoa simply stared at it, as another burst of thunder rolled in from the sky, and it began, lightly, to rain._

_A pair of familiar black boots entered her vision. Squall, back towards her, walked to the gunblade, closed his hand around the hilt, and yanked it out of the earth. He checked the blade, then lowered it to his side. Then he turned to her._

_And he smiled._

"_It's all right," he assured her. "I'm here now. Everything's fine."_

_Rinoa didn't feel fine at all. She couldn't move; she could barely breathe. Her whole body felt weak, and the pain where her wings had been was becoming worse if anything. Her eyes fixed on the gunblade._

"_Please," she said. "Just put me...out of this misery."_

_But Squall shook his head, and holstered the weapon. Kneeling down before her, he held out his gloved right hand, displaying the contents to her. It was the feather._

_Rinoa shook her head, trying to recoil at the sight of it; but she was too weak. "No," she said; but Squall didn't listen. With the same reassuring smile, he took her right hand in his left, and pressed the feather into her palm. Rinoa shook her head weakly, but her protests went unheeded as Squall – gently, yet firmly – closed her hand around it._

_The pain was back at once. Rinoa cried out, but Squall didn't relax his grip, even as Rinoa thought the feather might burn her whole hand off. Again she protested; but her cries degenerated to an incomprehensible whimper._

"_We'll be together," Squall told her, holding her hand firm. It'll be all right."_

_The pain was spreading from her hand, now. The throbbing from her former wings had escalated to rival the pain of the feather in her hand. Then suddenly, the pain multiplied again, as she felt the wings sprouting anew; and the fire spread throughout her body, overloading all her senses; and all she could do was —_

She screamed, sitting bolt upright in the bed. The transition from dream to consciousness was lost on her; all she could feel was pain. The fire felt like it was going to consume her, and all she could think was to push it away. And another transition was lost as her, as in that instant, the imagined fire became real.

The curtain surrounding her bed was the first thing to erupt in flames; then the sheets and mattresses on the nearby beds; and finally the walls, wooden beneath the sterile white paint, caught as well as the paint was peeled away by the heat.

The fire alarm rang out, but Rinoa didn't hear it. After a few more moments, she lapsed back into unconsciousness, hers the only bed in the care ward not engulfed in flame.

Squall had dozed off at around 23:00; when he awoke, it seemed that he was the only person still at the clinic. He didn't give too much thought to this, however; as when he awoke, it was to the very distinctive sound of a fire alarm. Glancing toward the care ward, he could see through the door a flickering light source in the distance; and it took him a very short time to determine everything he felt he needed to know.

Charging through the door, the short hallway and the second door into the care ward, Squall found himself in the midst of a total inferno. Wasting no time, he navigated from memory to the location of Rinoa's bed, and found her looking just as comatose as ever, though slumped over in such a fashion that she was close to falling out of the bed. Given that the bed was surrounded by flames and the sheets were threatening to catch fire themselves, the floor might have been a better place to be.

Squall quickly took her up in his arms, giving only an instant's thought as to why the only part of the room not completely aflame was a small circular area around Rinoa's bed. He turned to head back out the other door, but the fire had completely engulfed the doorframe and was spreading into the hall. Instead, he turned to the windows that lined the opposite end of the room.

_**Demi.**_ He barely kept still long enough for the spell to complete, charging forward and leaping through the newly broken window, landing flat on his back in a manner that prevented any serious injury to Rinoa, but knocked the wind out of him. For a moment, he simply lay there, breathless and shaking.

_What happened in there?_ he thought. _Did Rinoa...?_

He heard shouts from somewhere nearby. The fire was attracting attention; people would be gathering soon. Although he was still gasping for air, Squall got up again, and carried Rinoa in the direction of least commotion. He was in what looked like a back alley, cluttered with boxes and trash and not particularly appealing to the average pedestrian. This was good for him, because before anyone bothered to come back there, Squall was at the other side of town.

_We have to get out of here,_ Squall thought. _And fast. These people might think we had something to do with this, even if they don't know Rinoa is a Sorceress._ He remembered there being cars parked along the road before, when he had first arrived in town. This was a small town; didn't people in small Timber communities usually leave their cars unlocked, with the keys inside? He remembered hearing something like that.

The fire had indeed drawn a great deal of attention, and he managed to find an old, unattended station wagon with not a soul visible within three or four blocks. Quickly, he secured Rinoa in the passenger's seat and discovered the key in the vehicle's glove compartment. He didn't look back after starting the engine to see if anyone had noticed or was following him; he simply took off down the road, not even sure which direction he was going, simply concerned with getting away once again.


	31. Investigations

**June 11**

"So do you normally get this much traffic in a day?" Miranda asked, pointing to the small fleet of ships clustered in the waters beyond the South Lanker naval port. It was a warm, sunny June morning, and she was beginning to wish she had remembered to bring a pair of sunglasses with her from Dollet.

The dockmaster shook his head. "Oh, hell no. Whole fleet's moving out today, but don't ask me why. Started takin' on supplies yesterday all of a sudden, and they sure were in _some_ kind of hurry."

"They just started yesterday?" Miranda made an impressed face. "You must've been working pretty fast to load that many ships."

"Tell me about it," agreed the dockmaster. "Had us going double-shifts, straight through the night. And you should've seen how much stuff they took; we had to cart in extra from a holding station to load all of 'em."

Miranda frowned. "You didn't have enough supplies for all the ships? That seems kinda...weird."

"Well, it was a weird day," the dockmaster said. "We had enough on hand to load all the ships to standard capacity; but it turned out that wasn't good enough for 'em. They kept tellin' us to throw on more — extra munitions, fuel, food rations by the ton, whatever you can think of." He glanced out at the fleet. "Even from here, I can tell they're riding lower in the water than they ought to. Whatever's goin' on, they're going out loaded for Wendigo."

"Sounds serious," said Miranda. "You think it's got anything to do with this whole NALCON thing?"

"Could be," said the dockmaster. "But this ain't normal NAL-3 behavior, I can tell you. I've been working here through two Sorceress wars, and I've _never_ seen a fleet in this much of a hurry when the Esthar Navy wasn't a hundred klicks offshore. If you ask me, Naraka's just flipped off his rocker."

"He has done some pretty funky things lately," Miranda agreed.

"The guy's got a paranoia complex the size of the Winhill bluffs," said the dockmaster. "I hear he sees a conspiracy when his coffee's too cold. Keeps things interesting for sure, but that's a hell of a guy to have running your country."

Miranda smiled. "You're not worried I might report you to the Special Investigators for saying that?"

The man shrugged. "Eh, what do I care? This is a shit job anyway."

Now Miranda laughed. "Nice talking to you. Maybe I'll catch you again sometime later."

"I'll be around," agreed the dockmaster.

As she struck out again along the docks, Miranda sought to put the information she had just gathered into some sort of clear picture. Clearly the Galbadians were worried about something; and knowing Naraka, that would likely mean serious trouble for somebody. But who? The fact that the focus now seemed to be on a naval operation at first seemed to support her idea about the pirates, but that suggestion seemed flawed. For one thing, why would the Galbadians have waited so long, then scrambled their fleet in such a hurry? The pirates weren't a new issue, and what about them would merit the attention of an entire battleship force in addition to the ships already in Centra?

Of course, so far, she didn't have any solid numbers on how many ships the Galbadians had in Centra anyway. And she wasn't going to get them from asking around the docks. She'd asked for interviews with officials in the Southern Seas Command, but so far the bureaucratic run-around was running just as strong with her actually on location. Her only options seemed to be a wave of persistent nagging or finding some friendly clerk who could grant her direct access to naval deployment files, knowingly or otherwise. At the moment, she intended to pursue both options and see what she could get.

Glancing out at the departing Galbadian warships, Miranda thought that she, too could see them riding a bit lower in the water than seemed natural; and another thought struck her. If the ships were that heavily loaded, then it seemed like the extra weight should slow them down. And if that were the case, it would be even harder for them to catch up with a band of pirates whose ships ought to be optimized for speed. It would have made a lot more sense for the Galbadians to be _un_loading any equipment they didn't need, to make their ships lighter.

For the first time, Miranda began to seriously consider the idea that she might be wrong about the pirates. Whatever Galbadia was doing, this was about a lot more than some bandits hanging out in Centra.

Of course, she'd go on pursuing the story she'd pitched to Blake. But she figured that, as long as she was in the neighborhood, she might as well try to figure out just what _else_ the Galbadians were setting up for. From the look of things, her investigation was going to get pretty complicated from here on out.

The late-morning sun was brilliant over the tiny South Lanker town, though the SeeDs who had not seen any direct sunlight in the past four days would not have minded if the weather had been a bit more overcast. But the still-smoldering rubble of what had yesterday been an unassuming clinic in a sleepy country town, which resembled a giant patch of used-up charcoal in the harsh sunlight, managed to steal considerably more of their attention than the presence of a sun in the sky.

"You've completely ruled out any other cause for the fire?" Nida was asking of the town marshall. "Something with the wiring, maybe, or...a freak lightning strike?"

"Well, we can't rule out _everything_," said the marshall. "But it sure don't look electrical. From what we can tell, the fire started around one of the beds, not in the walls. Not _in_ the bed, mind, but in a perfect circle all around it. And it just so happened that this is the bed where the staff put our mysterious visitor who showed up last night."

"But there's no sign of them now?" asked Quistis.

The marshall shook his head. "There's six bodies in the care ward; we figure they're patients who couldn't get out in time. But there were seven patients including last night's arrival, and we're pretty sure she's the one we're missing. Plus, old man Jenkers' car turned up missing this morning, so it's a good bet your one fugitive made off with the other, and they're maybe halfway to Dollet by now."

Quistis nodded. "Thanks for your time."

"No problem," said the marshall. "Oh, just for my money? The girl torched the place. She's the Hyne-child, for damn sure."

At first, no one on the SeeD team had thought to suggest a connection between Rinoa and the fire — or perhaps dared to consider one. It was a little disconcerting, then, that the townspeople seemed to have come up with the answer even without knowing Rinoa was a Sorceress.

"We plan to find her," Quistis said.

With the Galbadian soldiers standing watchfully nearby, the SeeDs had made themselves busy investigating the scene. While Quistis and Nida were speaking to the town marshall, Zell and Paige were helping the townspeople pick through what remained of the rubble, while Karenna and Jeck were talking to the medical center's administrator over by the six bodies covered with black sheets. There wasn't much to be done, really; volunteers from the town had already gone over the scene ever since the early-morning fire had been brought under control; but the SeeDs had to be doing something, so they found tasks for themselves.

Irvine hadn't been doing anything. He couldn't quite bring himself to care what the Galbadians would think, or think of any work to do. He stood next to one of the buildings that had adjoined the hospital; this building, too, had caught fire, but was at least still standing. Mostly, he was staring at the ruins of the hospital, or the six dead bodies lying out under the harsh summer sun.

He felt more than a little odd. He had seen death before, and even taken more than a few lives himself. He guessed the difference was proximity; sniping was to kill from a distance, where all he had to do to put distance between himself and the body was to put down the gun. Still, something told him the problem ran deeper than this.

He'd grown up near a town not too different from this one, in-between living at Edea's orphanage and living in Galbadia Garden. A little larger, maybe, but with the same basic design: a few dozen buildings lined along both sides of a little-used highway where the railroad tracks ran parallel to the road for a while. In his hometown, the railroad had actually run across the road in the middle of town; he and a few of the other kids had used the big freight trains to excuse being late for school now and again. Mostly what he remembered of the place was how incredibly dull it had seemed.

A charred shingle from the roof above him came loose, clattering down into the pile of ash that remained of the hospital. Irvine stepped away from the building.

He saw Selphie standing on the far side of the road, tracing patterns in the dirt by the road with her boot. It seemed as if she was slouching even while standing upright, which didn't seem like Selphie at all. Not that he could blame her.

"Hey," he said, approaching her. His initial plan had been to say something upbeat that could potentially cheer her up; but his heart just wasn't in it.

Selphie didn't answer right away, as she used her boot to wipe away the pattern she had been tracing and then start another. Irvine couldn't guess what either of them could possibly be.

"Rinoa can't have done this, right?" she asked. "I mean, why would anyone want to set a hospital on fire? That's just..." She turned away, bringing a hand up to her face as if she were trying to hold back tears.

Irvine was at a complete loss for what to say or do. "...We don't know for sure it was Rinoa," he said. "Everyone here thinks so, but they're all just guessing too. Nobody really saw it; and plus, we..." For some reason, he couldn't quite bring himself to say, 'we know Rinoa wouldn't do something like that.' If that was true, why couldn't he stop thinking that was exactly what happened?

They had been standing in front of another building, which was probably the town's grocery store. Neither of them had noticed this before a young woman, about their age with a similarly despondent expression, came walking out of it and nearly collided with Irvine. "Oh!" she exclaimed, blinking at the shoulder of his SeeD uniform, which happened to be at about her eye level. "sorry; I was...kinda out of it there, I guess."

"Don't worry about it," said Irvine. "It's a really awful thing to happen, having a hospital burn down."

"I actually worked there," she said. "I was the day nurse. And I was basically the night nurse too, because we didn't have a night nurse and I got called in if anything happened." She smiled weakly. "I really just did whatever Doctor Wayfield told me to; I haven't taken classes or anything."

Irvine was sure there were a hundred clever things he could say to this under ordinary circumstances, but at the moment he couldn't even think of one. "...I'm Irvine," he finally managed. "By the way. This is Selphie. We're SeeDs."

"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm Amey. ...Nice to meet you."

"Yeah," said Irvine.

More silence followed. "Hey," said Selphie, at length. "Were you working last night? Did you see Squall and Rinoa?"

Amey nodded. "I didn't know either of their names. I wasn't here when the guy – uh, Squall – brought her in, but I helped Dr. Wayfield with a couple tests. It seemed like she was just exhausted, and she'd be fine with a few days' bed-rest. So I told that to...Squall, and he was pretty tired himself, so that was pretty much the conversation." She was looking at the ruined hospital; or, it seemed, beyond it, as if she could see into the past. "You know, I kind of got the feeling, when I told him how long she should take to recover...it was like he wanted to get out of here sooner, like he knew something bad was going to happen. Or, I dunno; maybe it's just one of those things we make up in hindsight."

"He was probably just worried about us catching up with him," said Irvine.

Selphie was tracing an even larger pattern in the dirt.

"It's so unreal," said Amey. "I mean, everyone's talking about this girl being a Sorceress, or some kind of monster-spawn thing. But I _saw_ her; she was just...you know, a girl. She was _my age_. I mean, is that what evil looks like?"

Irvine could think of a few different ways to answer this question; but none of them seemed remotely satisfactory, so he said nothing.

"Well, I should see if they need any help with, uh..." She motioned her hand to the six sheets on the other side of the hospital. "With the bodies."

Irvine nodded; but as she was leaving, Selphie spoke up. "Wait. Can you tell us who they were?" She looked apologetic already. "...The people who died."

Amey nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Uh...there was old lady Whittafer; she'd got a really nasty allergy from a couple of skunks that come around sometimes, and was spending the night on a respirator just in case. Mr. Talmat was in a car accident a couple weeks ago and broke a few bones, and then we had Ms. Lang, Mr. Drewson and Kelley Firlay in with some kind of bacteria from the bottled steak. Kelley went to school with me, but I didn't know her that well; she wasn't the kind of person who made friends too easy." She was staring off beyond the distance again.

"That was five," said Selphie. "Wasn't it six people?"

"Yeah," Amey said, then hesitated. "...The last one was...Mrs. Whittafer's granddaughter, Shannen. She wanted to stay the night; you know, so her grandmother'd have company." Again she fell silent, for long enough that Irvine started to wonder if she would say any more. "She was...her tenth birthday was next month."

By now, Irvine had figured out what made these particular deaths so disturbing.

"We're sorry," said Selphie. "I really wish there was something we could do."

Amey's wan smile returned. "They say Hyne created all humans to serve him. He gave us our souls, but once the soul left the body, even he couldn't put it back." She shrugged. "I never quite got it, but I think what they're saying is...what's done is done. Nothing's gonna fix this, so we should just...get on with the things we can do something about. That's what I've been telling myself, anyway."

Quistis joined them in the silence that followed. "We're moving out," she said. "Squall's probably going north in the stolen car, so we'll follow the highway as far as it takes us."

Irvine nodded, and Quistis left to speak with one of the Galbadian soldiers. "Well, we'd better get moving," he said, and Selphie nodded.

"Well, it was..." Amey trailed off before saying "nice meeting you". "...Good luck."

A cloud rolling in from the south blocked out the sun for a moment, hiding the details of the hospital rubble and making it look a little like a big square hole in the earth, a gateway down to hell. Or a newly filled grave.

"...Thanks," Irvine said.


	32. Determinations

The **LOW FUEL** light on the car's dashboard had been flashing for nearly an hour now. Squall had been ignoring it. Now the engine was beginning to sputter, which was a more difficult thing to overlook. Still, Squall did not relax his pressure on the accelerator, even as his acceleration became distinctly irregular on its own.

He was coming up on a turnoff where the road he was on, Lanker Expressway #17, merged with Continental Highway 3 leading into Timber. If he stayed on this road, he would be taken directly into the city; or he could take Continental back west and head for the Dingo province. It would be the first time he'd been faced with a major choice regarding his direction; after driving all night, he had bypassed every connecting road without any real thought.

Rinoa was strapped into the passenger's seat beside him. Since Squall had rescued her from the clinic, her condition had improved somewhat — if moaning from time to time with eyes half-open could be regarded as an improvement. Squall had been too busy driving to pay too much attention, however; much like when he had been piloting the hovercraft towards southeast Winhill, his eyes were unwaveringly fixed ahead of him. Even the sunrise off to the right side of his vision had failed to deter his focus.

He passed a sign reading **CH 3 - TIMBER, 3 MILES**. The car lurched violently for a moment, as the engine stalled; but then it seemed to settle into a smoother ride afterwards. Rinoa moaned.

"Turn it back on," she muttered.

"Rinoa?" Squall asked, taking his eyes off the road for an instant to look at her in surprise.

"Please," Rinoa continued, not looking at him or anything else. "Don't like cars. Can't...think."

_She's delirious,_ Squall thought. It took him another moment to realize that these had been the first words he had heard her utter in nearly a year. But her voice hadn't sounded right at all; and he couldn't decide if this was because of her condition or because he had actually forgotten what she sounded like. The latter option ought to have been unthinkable; and yet, he found himself giving it far more consideration than the former.

The engine sputtered again, and this time Squall felt a distinct loss of velocity as the speedometer began to fall. His first reaction was to press the accelerator down harder, but this had no effect, so he steered the vehicle over to the road's narrow shoulder. The car rolled to a halt a few dozen meters ahead of the **427** distance marker, as the engine gave out completely.

For a minute or so, Squall simply sat in the driver's seat, as if he were still cruising along the road at 95 kilometers per hour. _Well, now what?_ he thought, when his mind had reaffirmed thinking as the proper thing to do.

The first step, he decided, involved getting out of the vehicle, so he did so, and looked around. The highway ran through a mildly thick wood that had once been at the edge of the Timber forests, but were now more or less all that was left of them. The road was slightly elevated so that Squall could almost see above the treetops; while he couldn't see how far the woods stretched, they seemed fairly substantial. Squall decided to continue heading east, but to strike away from the road for a while, in case the Galbadians located his vehicle.

Then, he crossed over to the passenger's side of the car and unfastened Rinoa from the seat. She moaned again as he pulled her from the seat, though her posture remained completely passive.

"I wish I could do more for you, Rinoa," Squall said. "But I can't risk going to another hospital; people might get suspicious."

"Always looking out for me," whispered Rinoa. "I saw...never said anything. So sorry."

"Don't be sorry," said Squall, unsure and not caring whether she could hear him. "This wasn't your fault. I should have been here."

It didn't quite register that her words and his response didn't quite make sense together. Neither of them were in a particularly clear state of mind at the time.

Since learning of Commander Leonhart's defection, Naraka had remained in the Presidential office for nearly twenty-four hours, finally retiring to the Residence upstairs when it had become so late at night that absolutely no one was still awake in the world, save Esthar. Today, he seemed to be adapting back into his normal routine, where he would move about the building as it suited him and bark orders to Janis, who relayed them to the staff. He did not arrive in the office until late morning.

"General Tolmar is waiting outside, Mr. President," said Janis as Naraka seated himself behind the desk.

"Good," Naraka replied. "Do you have a copy of the intelligence report?"

Janis nodded, handing him a folder with the seal of the Armed Forces Intelligence Department on its cover. "Of course, Mr. President."

"Show the General in."

Janis nodded again, and departed. A moment later, General Tolmar stepped into the office, saluting as Naraka stood with the minimal level of courtesy, still holding the report.

"Yesterday," Naraka began, "Esthar began consolidating significant naval forces off its southwestern shores, in the vicinity of the Kashkabald Sea. Furthermore, all Esthar's land forces are at a readiness level that is generally associated with imminent war. What do you suppose they are doing, General?"

"Mr. President, we have a number of warships in the Centra region tracking the rogue element," Tolmar replied.

"Indeed," said Naraka, although it seemed likely that Tolmar had meant to say more. "And Esthar has in the past shown an interest in engagement with Garden. Interesting that these actions occur the very day after SeeD's commander turns violently against us, wouldn't you say?"

The other General frowned. "Mr. President, my analysts believe that Esthar's action is a response to our own forces in the region, and our increase of the National Alert status."

"Yes, yes, yes; but what _sort_ of response, then?" Naraka turned away, as if delivering his speech to a more general audience than the single other person in the room. "Esthar's military policy has always been one of intimidation; if massing naval forces won't convince us to abandon our search and leave, they'll begin to harass our forces, and finally drive us out at the point of a gun."

"I agree, Mr. President," said Tolmar. "But our intelligence suggests that the bulk of Esthar's naval force is unlikely to come anywhere near our pursuit craft. This at least means that they do not intend to cause any serious interference for some time to come."

"You're assuming that our pursuit craft might not find their quarry retreating directly into their hands," Naraka said. "Our forces have been in North Centra for over a week; why is it that only now Esthar is concerned?" He shook his head. "No, something else is happening here, and I don't intend to be caught off guard for it."

Tolmar hesitated before her response. "Mr. President, I should point out that action on our part that could be deemed aggressive might produce a harsher response from Esthar in turn. With the naval groups moving into the Kashkabald sea, Esthar does possess a significant force superiority at the moment."

"I'm quite aware," said Naraka. "I'm also quite aware that we can't expect to outmatch Esthar's navy in east Centra. Which is perfectly fine, because I don't intend to strike them by sea." He sat down once again. "Inform the joint commands of the general staff that I'll want a meeting regarding our military initiatives as soon as it can be arranged; my office will be contacting them."

"Sir," Tolmar said, "If you have something in mind, I'd appreciate being aware of your intentions."

The Lord-General fixed the General with a cool gaze that seemed to carry rather more suppressed fury than Tolmar was used to. "The Sorceress is free," he said. "SeeD, some or all, are turning against us. The few who were always against us continue to elude our most comprehensive searches. And in the midst of all this, Esthar has chosen the moment to rattle the saber. I don't believe in coincidences, General; and I _do_ believe that threats ought to be dealt with as effectively and decisively as circumstances permit. _That_ is what I have in mind." He pointedly directed his attention to the papers in front of him and not to her. "That will be all, General; you may go."

Tolmar saluted, turned on her heel, and left. Naraka didn't watch her go, and saw nothing of the expression that, for just an instant, flashed across her face.


	33. Intentions

Keri had been holed up in the workroom aboard the _NR-447_ for several hours, examining the piece of hull plating she had found on the beach. The ship was off pursuing some lead or other that had left Tavin feeling certain they were going in the wrong direction; and Tavin was currently off explaining that to the mission commander. Considering Tavin's general volatility, the meeting was unlikely to be going well.

"I think this is talking about some kind of propulsion system," Keri said. "The math is a lot more advanced than I was giving it credit for. At least, I think it is; it's kind of hard to tell with only half an equation."

"Why would anyone put math on the outside of their ship?" asked Sean. "I mean, are they trying to educate any fish that might come by?"

"It's probably decorative," said Keri, too distracted to be bothered with his sarcasm. "The Kashkabald had a very strong mathematical tradition in the years before they were conquered by the Sorceress. Math was kind of the holy universal language for them."

"Did the Kashkabald have ships?" Mara asked.

"Nothing that could possibly outrun the Galbadian navy," Keri replied. "And they didn't do a lot of metalwork either. The only thing I can think to compare this to is the kind of markings we see in the MD levels of the Gardens."

Mara's eyebrows shot up. "That's bizarre. You think there's a connection?"

"Sure there is," Sean intoned. "It's clear that the pirates are actually the builders of the Gardens, who have been in hiding for centuries on their highly advanced super-ship; but now the Galbadians have found them, and are after the secrets of their technology."

Keri frowned at him. "...You know, maybe I've been up too long, but that actually kind of makes sense."

"Yeah, I noticed that while I was saying it," agreed Sean. "It's kind of freaky."

Mara stood up from the terminal she had been staring at, stretching. "There _is_ something else going on here, isn't there? I mean, maybe the Galbadians are this secretive about things whenever SeeD is around, but...did you _see_ how many ships they had just at the one beach? Who goes to this much trouble to catch a few pirates?"

"And what kind of pirates find the farthest place from every commerce line in the world to hide out in?" chimed in Sean. "I mean, pirates are supposed to live on the stuff they take, right?"

"There is some traffic to and from Centra," Keri reminded him. "But you're right; most of it steers way clear of these waters. My thing is...I don't know." She held up the fragment of hull. "It's like there's something right in front of me, and I'm totally missing it. It's a really annoying feeling."

"No kidding," said Mara. "You think there's any chance that we'll ever find out what the Galbadians are really up to, or do we just get sent back to Garden when the job is done with a paycheck and some warning, 'Don't discuss any of the things you saw on this mission and don't understand anyway'?"

"Can I say that I totally saw this coming?" said Sean. "This mission completely sucks, okay? The Galbadians are just using us for the work they can't be bothered to do themselves, and we're all like, 'Okay, mister Galbadian guy, please don't cut our funding!' Say I'm whining if you want, but much more of this and I'm moving to Trabia."

"Sean, you're whining," said Keri.

Sean glared at her.

"You know what I don't get," said Mara. "The Galbadians go out of their way to make sure we don't have too much information about these pirates, when they're the ones who hired us to track the pirates down. It's like, these pirates scare them enough that they'll hire SeeD to catch them — which means they've got to be pretty good at escaping the G-Navy, or they'd be caught already — but at the same time, they're kind of blindfolding us as we look for them. How much sense does _that_ make?"

An idea was again nagging at Keri's head, but she was missing some crucial mental link that would allow the idea to make any sense to her. "There's something..." she said. "I don't know what it is, but something about this..."

A moment after she had trailed off, her attempts to reason through her thoughts were interrupted when the doors to their work center slid open and Tavin, wearing his green Paratrooper's uniform, stormed in. "Hyne-damned idiot _bastards_!" he fumed, throwing down his helmet, hard, onto the desk and cracking one of the display screens. "Every time I ask them what in the lunar hell they want from us, they act like I'm being treasonous or some other stupid thing!" He was so angry that he seemed to have forgotten that he disliked two of the three other people in the room. "You know what they did? They said maybe I was _collaborating_ with the fugitives! 'You guys sure stick together, don't you?' What, like _I'm_ a pirate now?"

Around then, something in Keri's head snapped into place. "...No _way_," she said out loud. "Tavin, they actually said that? About sticking together?"

"Yeah!" Tavin exclaimed. "Can you believe it? I've been trying to help them catch their stupid pirate fugitives, despite them holing us up in this idiot tiny room and giving us no information, and their way of saying 'Thank you' is to say I'm sympathizing with the pirates?"

Tavin was so furious that he didn't notice the vaguely stunned expression on Keri's face. The other two SeeDs did, however. "What is it, Keri?" asked Mara.

"Uh. I, uh...they..." Keri started talking several seconds before she was able to form a complete sentence.

"Now Tavin was becoming slightly more lucid as well. "Huh? What's got into you, now?"

Keri looked at him, then at the array of papers and monitors detailing their hunt, and finally at the piece of metal she had been examining, with its eerily familiar Kashkabald math.

"...I don't think they hired us to track down pirates," she said.

Quistis' right index finger had been tapping nervously against her left leg for nearly half an hour, although she barely noticed it. She was seated, with Selphie, Irvine and Nida, in the back of a Galbadian all-terrain vehicle that had been rolling across the south Lanker countryside all afternoon. While there were no windows in the back of the vehicle and Quistis hadn't bothered to check her wristwatch recently, she had to imagine that it was at least evening by now.

Everyone was becoming impatient. Quistis was forcing a rigid self-control while working through an intense train of thought; her index finger was the one nervous tick that got away. The others weren't doing as well; Selphie couldn't go more than a minute and a half without shifting her weight or adjusting some piece of her uniform, and Irvine apparently couldn't decide if he should try to sleep or just stare intensely at the wall. Nida was reading the emergency instructions posted by the exit for at least the hundredth time.

The car lurched to a halt without warning as the engine switched into idle. There was the sound of muffled voices outside, and then the back door was swung open by the Galbadian captain who led the troops escorting the SeeDs. "We're here," he declared bluntly, departing before any questions could be asked or thought of. Sighing, Quistis unfastened her seat restraints and climbed out of the vehicle, though her legs were feeling particularly tired.

They were stopped in the middle of the expressway, with yellow warning cones set up on the road to divert traffic around the armored vehicles. Not far ahead was an old brown station wagon stopped along the shoulder with the passenger-side door hanging open. Galbadian troops had surrounded the vehicle, and were closing in cautiously as if there might be a bomb inside.

"Is that the car Squall ran off with?" Quistis asked.

"License plate matches the vehicle stolen last night," replied the Galbadian captain. "Highway patrol first spotted it a few hours ago, with an empty fuel tank and no sign of the occupants."

"When, exactly?" asked Nida, whom Quistis hadn't noticed was listening in. The Galbadian captain apparently hadn't either, and gave him a slightly startled glance before responding.

"They called in the report at 10:04," he said, "but it's not clear how long the vehicle was here before then."

"And it's 16:45 now," said Nida, though Quistis noted that he he didn't need to check his watch to know this. "Even on foot, Squall could have covered a lot of ground already."

"Well, then you'd better not take long working out which way he went," said the captain. "Especially as I want to find them _before_ anything else burns down; hell if we're going to be tracking them down by following the path of scorched earth."

"We're getting into north Lanker now, right?" asked Nida. "It looks like Squall's heading for Timber, maybe to hook up with one of the resistance factions."

"Galbadia's cracking down hard on the Timber resistance," said the captain. "He'd be smart not to show his face within a hundred kilometers of that town; someone'll see him."

"He might not have too many choices," Nida pointed out. "He obviously took Rinoa to that hospital for medical attention, and she might still need some. If you've got a Sorceress who's in bad shape and most of Galbadia after your head, it might work better do disappear in a crowd."

"Hmph." The captain turned to the remains of the hospital. "If his Sorceress is the pyro she's looking to be, I'd want to keep her as far away from people as I could if I were him. Matter of fact, if I were him, I'd be hoping to Hyne that she doesn't put the death toll up any higher." With that, he left to confer with one of his subordinates, leaving Quistis and Nida off to themselves.

"...I was wondering," said Nida. "How helpful are we supposed to be, sharing about where we think Squall is headed?"

Quistis shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know. Do you really think he'll be going to Timber?"

"Not really." Nida shrugged. "That captain's got a good point; if Rinoa did burn down that clinic for some reason, Squall should probably keep her away from other flammable objects until she gets better."

"I suppose," said Quistis. "...Do you think Rinoa really started that fire?"

"Didn't sound like they were making it up," said Nida. "And I don't know the exact statistics on how many hospitals spontaneously burn down, but I get the feeling it's pretty rare. Now doesn't seem like a great time to be trusting to coincidence."

"I know," Quistis agreed. "Still..." Unable to quite formulate what she had been going to say, she shook her head and switched gears. "Anyway. I doubt Squall would want to try visiting another small town after what's happened; and I'm not sure he knows the geography very well. Timber might be his only option."

"Except he doesn't know Timber very well, either," pointed out Nida. He glanced away, looking to have something on his mind; but it took a moment before he said it out loud. "...You know Squall pretty well. Do you think he's really got any kind of plan at all? He could just be trying to get away."

Quistis glanced at him, surprised. Then, frowning, she glanced at the car on the side of the road. "He didn't even bother to refuel. There must have been fuel stations along the road, but he just let the tank run out and abandoned the car."

"The only currency he'd have had was his charge card," Nida pointed out. "The Galbadians could track his whereabouts if he used that."

"They can do that with a car stopped on the roadside, too," said Quistis. "And now he has to proceed on foot, unless he's taken to hitchhiking or..." She trailed off, staring into the woods at nothing in particular.

"Hitchhiking doesn't really seem like something Squall would do," said Nida. "Or that good of an idea anyway. ...Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Quistis refocused on him. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine. It's just..." After trailing off again, she took a moment to wonder how much angst it was really proper for the team leader to share. "...Six people," she said softly, disregarding her conclusion. "I can't stop thinking about them. Burned to death in a hospital; the only thing they did was to get sick at the wrong time."

Nida nodded solemnly. "Well, I guess we don't know that. Maybe they'd grow up to be the next Vinzer Deling or Sorceress Adel. ...The next six Delings and Adels."

Quistis eyed him. "That's an awful thing to say."

He nodded again. "It's a risk I take sometimes."

There was another silence, before Quistis eventually spoke. "When I was twelve, I transferred to Galbadia Garden for two years, before I came back to take the SeeD exam. I did it because whenever Squall and Seifer would get into fights — and it happened a lot — I would feel like I had to step in and resolve things." She half-smiled. "Sometimes, trying to keep them apart from each other left me pretty beat up myself. It got so bad that I was falling behind in my studies right along with them.

"When I came back to Balamb Garden, I was actually stunned by how well the two of them were getting along. They still fought, of course, but when I'd left, they'd been screaming so loud that I swore the whole Garden could hear them. Once I asked Squall why he and Seifer still fought with each other, even though they almost seemed like friends. Squall said, 'I've gotta take care of myself.' And that's never changed, ever since he was a kid back at the orphanage; even if he has no idea what action to take, the one thing Squall can't stand to do is nothing." She sighed. "I wish I'd remembered that sooner."

Nida nodded solemnly, with one of the expressions that Quistis had taken to mean the at he was in the middle of deep thinking, though she knew not about what. "...So where do we go from here?" he asked.

Quistis shook her head, looking everywhere else and then at him. "Beats me. I don't have a clue what Squall's doing, Nida; I don't think _he_ has a clue. He's just _doing_, because he's been standing still for much too long."

Nida took this in while maintaining a perfectly still pose, of the sort that likely contributed to how frequently he was overlooked. "...So what do _we_ do?"

Quistis glanced up along the road, taking a moment to note the irony. She had no idea what Squall was doing, and thus couldn't begin to guess where to look for him. But with the Galbadians impatient to catch him and distrustful of her goals, she had to take some action to find him. The one thing she couldn't do was nothing.

"Let's go to Timber," she said.


	34. Perceptions

For Rinoa, it was if she had awakened into the same nightmare that haunted her sleep. There were the fields under a stormy sky, and Squall was pulling her through them. The fact that everything now existed in blurry, indistinct shapes while in her dreams the landscape bore a cold, impossible clarity allowed her to distinguish the two; but it didn't matter. Asleep or awake, she was a spectator in her own life, who could not move or speak or barely think.

In the waking life, there were trees here and there; sometimes the sun was screened by a canopy of leaves yet still managed to glare into her eyes, while sometimes there was nothing to block the sun at all. There was thunder, but since the sun never dimmed she could not be sure if it was real or imagined; she thought she saw clouds racing away and then rolling back as a thick fog that obscured her vision but not the glare of the sun. And all through it, Squall carried her forward, towards what end she did not know.

Then he would stop, and she would drift into sleep. In the new dream, she was lying on her side under a sky of rippling mercury, as a tornado of feathers descended around her. They were white at first, but would become singed and black as ash once they came to rest about her, and she could feel the heat drying out her body as well. Whenever one of the feathers would touch her skin, the heat would become unbearable, but she was too weak to scream or make any move beyond a tiny flinch. Squall stood in front of her, gunblade in hand and standing as a sentry, always with his back to her, always telling her how sorry he was for not protecting her before and promising to safeguard her from all danger henceforth. Another searing feather would land on her with each promise, until the pain exploded, the mercury clouds would roll away before a cold, blue sky, and she would be awake again, with the real Squall hauling her onward and the sun glaring in the corner of her eye.

The dreams might be a great deal clearer than the waking world, but the whole of their reality was pain. There was no real pain when she was awake, only a dull ache throughout her body and an unpleasant throbbing in her skull. Maybe this meant that she had her labels wrong, and her dreams were the reality; but it didn't really seem to matter, as she was utterly helpless in each.

Time was an impossible thing to measure under circumstances such as this. For all she knew, years had passed with her in this state; since she could not remember how long a year was, this seemed reasonable enough. Indeed, she could only vaguely remember a time when she had not been simply shifting between delirium and dream, nor had she any idea what had brought her to this state. Her past was all a blur, and she lacked any concept of future.

The one constant was Squall. She remembered him, though she could not recite much of his biography — matters such as his age or what he did were unimportant; the feeling that she _knew_ him was there, and that was enough to separate him from the surreality that encompassed the rest of her world.

But Squall was also always out of reach. She could not communicate with him, or influence his actions in any way, even though all of his actions seemed to relate back to her. Awake or in the dream, Rinoa could not make Squall hear her, and was still powerless with her fate in his hands.

Once, when Squall had paused in carrying her, she found herself on the ground but not in the dream, staring instead at the blurry sun through the indistinct trees and Squall's unclear form sitting not far away. She felt energy flowing through the earth, magical water that ached like fire. The words 'draw point' didn't come to her mind, but she knew what it _was_ nonetheless. Within Squall, she could recognize the power of his GF and the magic residing in his mind, the energy flowing through and surrounding his body; though her eyes could not focus on his physical form, she felt as if she were seeing into another reality, one deeper than any other human could understand. This, she thought, was perhaps why Squall didn't respond to her; she couldn't communicate in his world anymore, and he couldn't comprehend this new one that was hers.

Such thoughts then faded, as the dream and its familiar pain retook her consciousness, as cold and painful as ever. And the cycle went on.

After nearly twenty years, the Timber forests had only begun to recover from the devastation of the Galbadian invasion. The trees existed in sparse patches among wide fields where dead stumps had been reclaimed by the grass. Squall had meant to use these woods for shelter, but in this state they provided little; more often than not he was trekking through an open field, visible to anyone who had a decent pair of binoculars, or even fairly good eyesight. He used the patches of trees to set Rinoa down and rest himself; either she was getting heavier or he more tired, but the task of carrying her onward was becoming harder.

He was getting hungry again. Really, he hadn't stopped being hungry in days, but now the hunger had developed from a somewhat discomforting gurgle in his stomach to a dull ache that threatened to cause real pain. He was beginning to evaluate the nutritional merits of the local vegetation, but even if he could be sure that the leaves and plants around him weren't poisonous, none of them seemed particularly filling anyway.

Sometimes, Rinoa looked like she might be regaining consciousness; she would moan softly, slowly rolling over, and sometimes Squall thought she might even be looking at him. But she was clearly delirious; Squall had no idea if she could see anything at all. He wished he knew more about medicine, or what the doctor had done to leave her like this, so that he could have some idea how to help her; but all he could do was keep her away from the Galbadians and hope she would recover on her own.

He thought he could see the tops of the Timber skyline on the horizon through the patch of trees, off to the northeast. Getting too close to the city posed its own dangers, he knew, but he needed to keep his options open; if it were at all possible to venture into the city for supplies, he would have to do so. Squall had not eaten a decent meal in three days, and Rinoa in even longer, so he doubted any plant he found could prove sufficient for long.

It gradually dawned on Squall that it had been nearly three days since he had fought his way out of Battleship Island. So far, he hadn't had much reason to keep track of time — which wasn't a completely unfamiliar feeling; he still did not know how many days and nights he had spent trekking across the Horizon Bridge to Esthar with Rinoa on his back. It would be nice to say that he'd had more important things on his mind, but really he had not been thinking about much of anything, then or now. Both times, his mind focused on Rinoa, and what he had to do to make her better, even though he didn't know the answer. He tried not to think about the decisions he had made, especially this time around; self-doubt couldn't help either of them right now.

On the Horizon Bridge, Squall had known his destination, even if what would happen when he got there was an open question. Now, he had no destination, but could guess what would happen at any number of locations were he to go there. He had been resting for a particularly long time now, in part because he had no idea which way to go when he picked Rinoa up again. He was getting close to Timber, but behind him the Galbadians could well have found his abandoned car by now. Should he be looking for someplace to hide? If he could sneak into Timber, he might be able to catch a train to the desert or to Dollet, someplace farther away from the manhunt that was certainly following him. But Timber, as far as he knew, was still under martial law, and he did not like his chances of passing through unseen. Perhaps he should find the highway again and commandeer somebody's vehicle; he still had his gunblade and magic, so all he had to do was get someone to stop before the police or military came by.

There was someone watching him.

This last realization came to Squall fairly slowly. The signs were faint; whoever it was clearly had a good sense for the woods and was practiced in the art of not being seen. It wasn't clear to him what tipped him off: a shadow where it shouldn't be, or some noise of footsteps, or one of the inexplicable senses of the GF; but he became certain that there was another human nearby, somewhere off to his right where the trees were thicker. His hand drifted toward his gunblade as he carefully surveyed his surroundings for any other signs of people lurking about, perhaps some trap waiting to be sprung; but all he could sense was one solitary form.

His instinct was to approach and challenge the person, but he could not leave Rinoa even if no one else seemed to be around. If the person were a Galbadian agent, however, he didn't want to bring Rinoa right to them, either. Both options seemed to put her in as much danger as doing nothing would.

Kneeling down, he gently nudged Rinoa, quixotically hoping that she might regain consciousness and somehow be able to help him out of this predicament. "Rinoa?" he asked. "There's someone out here. I don't know who it is, but I could use your help." She moaned, rolled slightly away from him and murmured something Squall couldn't understand, but showed no signs of approaching lucidity. Squall sighed; he hadn't really expected better results, but Rinoa's state was troubling enough when there was no immediate danger as well.

Resolving to find someplace where Rinoa could be kept out of sight somehow, Squall picked her up again and set off at an angle away from the observer, who followed them at a distance. Since whoever it was could apparently track him through the trees and brush, Squall soon determined that hiding Rinoa would be conditional on killing or incapacitating whoever it was, which would rather eliminate the need to hide her anyway, since there was no one else around. Concluding, then, that the best solution lay in confrontation after all, he turned to find a way to catch the pursuer and strike.

He was still working out how to do this with Rinoa still carried on his back when he realized that the pursuer was now closing on him as well. Stopping in his tracks, he carefully set Rinoa down against a tree at the edge of a small clearing so she would be invisible to the person who was approaching from beyond the other side of it. He advanced into the clearing then, not putting more than two meters between himself and where Rinoa lay and directing nearly as much attention behind him as he did ahead. His gunblade was up and ready.

The other figure stepped out a few tense moments later, showing no interest in stealth. Squall, who had been ready to demand the person's identity and purpose in the woods, instead stared speechless at the new arrival – whose own gunblade remained in its holster at his side.

"Hey, Squall," said Seifer, with a characteristically casual manner as he strode to the center of the clearing. "How's it going?"


	35. Loyalties

**June 12**

There were two Galbadian soldiers standing along the wall of the conference room in addition to the four who escorted Keri and her teammates into it. From this, she supposed the Galbadians thought the three of them a serious enough threat – even unarmed – that subtlety was a matter of secondary concern. That, or they were very interested in reminding the SeeDs of how much potentially hostile muscle they were surrounded by.

Either way, she sensed that very little good was likely to result from the encounter.

It was barely after dawn, and the SeeDs had yet to begin their work for the day; they had been summoned virtually straight out of their bunks by their supervisor, in what Tavin had guessed was a tactic by the Galbadians to throw them off guard.

In addition to their direct supervisor, the intelligence officer whose name Keri hadn't bothered to learn, there was a man whose uniform identified him as the vessel's captain and a woman in civilian clothes who was probably a government representative. All of them looked particularly stern.

As they were trained, the SeeDs stepped up to the opposite side of the table, and saluted. "At ease," said the captain.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you've been summoned here at this time," said the intelligence officer. Keri noted that they weren't being asked to sit.

None of the SeeDs replied, although the officer waited for one. After a short time, the second man broke in. "I'm Commander Darman," he said, "the captain of this vessel. Based on your directions, my ship has been all though north Centra – and some less-than-friendly waters – but somehow the target we're after keeps slipping away. So in plain language, I want to know why the hell that is."

"We're pursuing them to the best of our ability," said Tavin. "They're proving to be extremely good at covering their tracks."

"Good enough that four operatives of Garden can't track them down, with nearly a full week to do it?" asked the woman.

"We feel we're making progress," said Tavin. "Their vessel is damaged; they can't be far."

"Assuming you've been leading us in the right direction," Darman said. Tavin narrowed his eyes at her, but she didn't give her an opportunity to respond.

The woman looked to Keri. "How do _you_ explain the fact that you have been operating on nothing but speculation as to the whereabouts of the target even after discovering evidence of their recent presence in the area as of 10 June?"

Keri noted that, so far, everyone was being careful not to give any mention of what their "target" was. Tavin had instructed the other SeeDs not to speak up with Keri's hypothesis, though he'd made clear he nonetheless intended to get the Galbadians to verify it. Somehow. "Our target has shown an innate familiarity with the north Centra region," she said, "which we simply don't have for ourselves. Moreover, weather conditions here make it difficult to use conventional surveillance techniques, limiting the effectiveness of our search. That doesn't leave us much except our own informed guesses."

"Which could stand to be more informed," Sean interjected.

Their supervisor leaned forward, frowning. "I've heard this complaint before. Are you saying the only reason you haven't completed your assignment is because we have withheld information from you?"

"Well, we can't know that, sir, unless we've seen the information," said Tavin. "Which we haven't. You've been asking us to solve a puzzle with half the pieces marked as classified; and the reason you've been hearing the complaint before is because it's been a problem for us ever since we set foot on this boat."

"So you fill the gaps with your own imaginations," said the woman, accusingly.

"We don't have anything _else_ to fill them with," replied Tavin. Keri held back a wince at this; she felt as if they were walking into a trap, though she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"You aren't here to speculate," said the captain. "You're here to point us to the target so we can take it out. Now that's a job I haven't seen you doing yet."

"With respect," Tavin began – and Keri could easily identify the low growl in his voice – "the more information we have, the easier our job is. If you want the job done fast, then you give us all the information you've got."

"So it's our fault that you haven't met your objective," said the intelligence officer. "You can say this without even having seen the classfied data to know what it contains."

"It's impossible for us to know whether the data would help us or not," said Mara. "But you can't know that either. Why not give us the benefit of the doubt?"

"The information is classified," said the intelligence officer. "Why do you want to see it so badly?"

"We just _told_ you," snapped Sean. "Look, ships don't leave tire tracks. You want us to find them, we've gotta anticipate where they're _going_ to be tomorrow, not just where they were yesterday. The only way to do that is to have as much information as we can, so we can figure out what they're going to do before they're going to do it. And right now, we can't, because their behavior doesn't match any kind of logical pattern that follows the information you've given us about them!"

"Meaning?" the intelligence officer prodded.

"Meaning these guys are either completely insane, or there's something big you're not telling us."

Now it was the civilian woman's turn to lean forward. "What you should know," she said, "is that failure to exercise proper discretion in the performance of your duty will have serious repercussions for our government's relationship with your organization – and for you, personally.

"You threatening us?" Tavin demanded. "Look, if these –" he hesitated for a split second – "targets were so easy to catch, you would have done it yourselves. What do you expect if you keep us in the dark like this?"

"What we can _expect —_" began the captain.

"We can expect you to pursue your objective with the full measure of commitment," said their supervisor, cutting off the captain. Keri's eyebrow twitched; simple pride dictated that the Galbadians wouldn't admit that SeeD was a more capable body than their own military, and one potentially effective retort would go a long way toward confirming the four SeeDs' suspicions. Some of the Galbadians seemed more aware of this fact than others.

"And just why do you think we wouldn't?" Tavin demanded. "A job is a job. The target could be Edea Kramer for all we care – hell, it _was_ once. The only thing that matters is accomplishing the mission."

Keri was surprised by Tavin's outburst; self-control wasn't his strongest trait, but his particular words were unexpected—and he was a little too effective in seeming believable.

Sean was apparently surprised as well, and expressed his feelings more vocally. "_What_ did you say?" he demanded, provoking a wince from Keri and a near-murderous glare from Tavin. The Galbadians looked just a tad bit nonplussed.

"Shut up," Tavin said. "I'm speaking for the team here."

"Sounds like you're speaking for _them_," said Sean indignantly.

"Shut _up_!" Tavin shouted. "This is our mission! We're SeeDs!"

"Oh, please," said the captain.

Tavin turned on him again. "You want us to track down your prey for you blindfolded and with a hand tied behind our back! If you had half a brain between the three of you, you wouldn't need to bother asking why they're slipping away!"

"That's enough!" the woman said. I've seen all I need to. Your mission is terminated."

"Great," said Sean, tone stuck halfway between sarcasm and general hostility. "Well, thanks, this has been _really_ productive. And fun!"

"I want them off my ship," said the captain.

"You'll be transported to a cutter and returned to the port at South Lanker," said the officer. "Immediately."

"Brilliant," said Tavin. "So we just blew five days on some stupid gold chocobo hunt? And you think now your targets will just magically appear right in front of you?"

The captain snorted. "Please. Without _you_ blocking us, we'll find your friends in no time – and string them up for _all_ you Garden types to see, teach you damn SeeDs a real —"

"Darman!" The officer and the woman had already realized what had happened. So did Keri, who was too caught up even to notice who had interrupted the captain. For his part, the captain stopped cold.

"You bastards," Sean breathed.

The officer turned to the captain and muttered something harsh to him. Then, as the captain turned and left, the woman turned to the officer and muttered something harsh to _him_. Then she left as well. The officer turned back to the SeeDs.

"You don't know anything," he growled. "You can't prove anything. And if you _say_ anything, it will be bad for Garden, and _very_ bad for you."

Then he left as well, as did all but two of the guards.

"...Hyne," said Keri.

"Idiots," said Tavin.

- - - -

Squall lay on his back, staring through the canopy of trees at the moon hanging overhead. It had to be after midnight by now, but as tired as he felt, he couldn't sleep. He'd eaten a decent meal that evening for the first time in what seemed like years, but his headache hadn't gone away and he felt a little like throwing up. Even the moon looked unsettling; well into its gibbous phase, its distorted oblong form was giving him thoughts about the warped reality of Time Compression, or Rinoa in a spacesuit drifting off into vacuum.

_This is ridiculous,_ he thought. _I've got enough problems now without reliving old ones._

He sat up. Rinoa was lying not two meters away, apparently asleep. Since evening, her waking moments – if those were what they had been – had faded away; her pulse and breathing remained normal enough, so Squall could only hope she had finally managed some genuine rest.

Seifer was sitting against a tree, facing him. Squall flinched — he must be more tired than he had realized, as he'd forgotten about Seifer completely. Now that he thought about it, everything fit together: Seifer had led them to this relatively thick patch of trees, provided a soup concoction for their meal — they had tried to feed some to Rinoa, but she mostly coughed it back up. Had Fujin and Raijin been there too? He thought they might now be off standing lookout, but this memory was vague enough that he might have imagined it. He had barely been paying attention to any of this, having been too tired and distracted to ask or even formulate the dozens of questions that now ran through his mind.

"Trouble sleeping?" Seifer asked.

"..." Squall pressed both hands to his forehead and willed the throbbing in his forehead to go away, without success. "...Seifer."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Right now? I'm standing watch," Seifer said flippantly. "Well, _right_ now I'm taking a break."

"Seifer." Squall was trying to sound impatient, but the result spoke more to exhaustion.

"Hey." Seifer shrugged, nodding at Rinoa. "I told you I'd find her." There his attitude failed; he stood, and started to pace, eyes focused on nothing. "Except I couldn't. I got some of the archives of the post where she was captured, but it didn't make sense. I figured they'd send her to D-District, or keep her in Timber for an execution. Instead they shipped her off to some secret facility. I couldn't even figure out where. Or why. But, then I start hearing things about a Sorceress on the loose, heading this way." He stopped, leaning against another tree. "I've spent a lot of time around here. I can get around pretty well." Now he looked at Squall. "So how'd _you_ find her? I thought you were stuck in Garden's gilded cage."

Squall half-thought Seifer had intended that last remark as a jab at him, but it didn't come across in the delivery. "...I was on a mission," he said quietly. "At the same facility where she..." He trailed off. This was the first time he had tried to put into words what had happened on Battleship Island. And the first time he had even tried to talk to anyone about it since.

"They tortured her," he said. "This scientist...he called it _research_." The word caught in his throat. I don't know how much trouble the others...I didn't...I couldn't just let that happen!"

Seifer stood frozen for a moment, seeming frighteningly calm. "...Yeah," he said eventually. "I kinda figured it was something like that." He took a step or two away from the tree, but was starting to look more than a little off-balance; he raised a hand to his head and stood there for a longer moment. Then he spun around and drove his fist into the tree, hard enough that Squall felt the force of the strike reverberate through the ground. "Dammit!"

Squall watched as Seifer sank back to the ground; he looked at Rinoa, who looked unchanged. Seifer, for his part, looked tremendously more drained. "Well," he said. "It's good she had her hero to ride to her rescue."

"Now it was Squall's turn to look at the ground. "...I'm nobody's hero," he said.

He told Seifer about Quistis and Zell. And the clinic. He told Seifer how lost he felt, and how little he knew about where he could go or what he could do. Seifer listened, silently, and took it all in.

"Doesn't feel too good, does it?" he finally asked.

"What?" asked Squall.

"Having to betray things" – he hesitated – "and people you care about for something you think you care about more."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "'Think'?"

Seifer nodded. "I turned on Garden – and Rinoa – for me. You didn't – you ran off 'cause you wanted to protect them. So congratulations, Commander – you're not me. But you're close enough. You didn't trust your friends enough to let them in on what was going on, or you didn't think about them enough to get the idea. And because of that, there's no one you can turn to for help, and Hyne only knows what they think of you now." He spread his hands in a 'there you have it' gesture. "Welcome to my life."

Squall couldn't think of anything to say to that; he leaned his head back against the tree, then slumped over to his side. "...So tired."

Seifer stood. "Don't let the bed-bugs bite," he said, before walking off to, presumably, stand sentry.

Squall closed his eyes. He felt even more drained than before, and the nausea remained. But his headache was all but gone, and he finally thought he could manage to sleep.


	36. Impulses

Though overshadowed in height by the Presidential Palace, by measure of floor space Parliament Hall was the largest building in Esthar. There were numerous lifts to ferry traffic between its hundreds of levels and then across the sprawling levels themselves, but still it was nearly ten minutes between the time Kiros and Ward walked in the entrance and when they arrived at the entrance to the Hall of Delegates.

"We're here to see Chairman Chan," Kiros said to the blue-robed usher who stood flanked by cyborg guards at the entrance.

"The Parliament is conducting a quorum," said the usher. "The Chairman cannot be disturbed."

"He requested we see him immediately," said Kiros. "His office gave specific instructions that we should meet him in the Chamber if he could not excuse himself."

The usher stepped away from them and produced a handheld intercom. Kiros could guess what he was saying and who he was speaking to, but didn't bother to listen.

"You think he's giving us the run-around on purpose?" he asked Ward.

Ward grunted, though Kiros thought he could almost hear his friend saying, _I don't think he'd bother._ Kiros nodded.

"The Chairman will meet with you," said the usher, rejoining them. "Though I must warn you his attention may be needed for a legislative action at any time. Come with me." With that, he turned and led them into the House chamber, with the two soldiers closing ranks to block the door, which slid closed until the usher could return.

The chamber itself was huge as well, a rectangular enclosure roofed by an expansive curved window that changed color and opacity in reaction to the time of day and level of light outside. Its upper levels were devoted to seating for the public, or those members of it who both could obtain a visitor pass and wanted to sit through hours of governmental procedure. The delegates were seated in an oval nearly the size of a basketball arena, with fully five thousand seats; there were over twelve hundred delegates, and the remaining seats were used by aides or left empty. Since a quorum was one time when all delegates were required by law to be present, most of these seats were currently filled with legislators and entourage.

The Chairman, along with the Cabinet, was seated on a platform in the center of the room that was raised about half a meter above the floor, which still left them well beneath the people and the backbench members of Parliament who needed opera glasses to even see the center table, but raised over those who sat at the front, such as the party leaders—or anyone who was summoned to speak to the Chairman during a quorum call.

Kiros and Ward were led by the usher up to this platform, where the Chairman was reading over a massive book containing the day's legislative agenda. Hasida Chan was a thin, balding man whose white formal robe only accented his lack of width. Nonetheless, he carried himself with a dignity that would have strongly hinted at his office even without the medallion bearing the Esthar logo that was affixed to the front of his robe. His thin, oval glasses and intense expression gave his face a slightly owlish character, but not quite the appearance of an intellectual. While he would rival Kiros' height standing up, the raised platform meant he could easily look down on all his visitors while remaining in his seat.

"Gentlemen," he said as they reached him, without setting down the legislative book. Nodding aside to the usher, he added, "You may stand aside for now."

"We're speaking to you on behalf of the President," said Kiros, as the usher stepped back out of hearing range. "He's interested in re-evaluating our foreign policy doctrine."

Chan nodded, though the legislative book still seemed to have the larger share of his attention. "It's interesting. The President is our head of state, and thus our public face to the world. Yet he is a servant to the policy set by this Parliament, which for eighteen years has dictated that he have no dealings at all with the rest of the world. Rather ironic, perhaps."

"That's actually what we wanted to talk about," said Kiros. "The President believes the policy should be revised."

"I'm aware," Chan said. "This isn't a new stance for the president to advocate."

Kiros could never read Chan. The man constantly looked as if he had something more important to focus on, which made it hard even to tell what he was thinking about, let alone what he thought about it. "...The president feels that the worsening situation with Galbadia calls for urgency," he tried.

"Parliament doesn't agree," Chan replied. "Esthar has functioned as a closed system ever since the overthrow of Sorceress Adel. We don't need the world."

"A year ago, you said it was important not to re-emerge on the world stage while Esthar was still recovering from the Lunar Cry," Kiros tried. "We've recovered. Considering the direction President Naraka is taking Galbadia in, the visible presence of Esthar as a balancing force is a reasonable step."

"...," said Ward.

"Imperative, even," Kiros agreed.

"Esthar is making its presence perfectly visible to Mr. Naraka," said Chan. "Parliament has already approved our policy of military deterrence, which the Galbadians will take notice of regardless of the diplomatic situation."

"But if there's no communication, there can't be any negotiation," pressed Kiros. "The president feels that strategic relationships with other parties would significantly improve our bargaining power." In truth, Laguna would have only a vague idea what Kiros had just said; but Kiros felt that he'd at least captured the president's sentiment. In one interpretation.

Chan glanced at Kiros, in the longest sustained look he'd given them since their arrival. "Parliament doesn't support acknowledgment of Garden as a legitimate entity. It's a mercenary organization with no loyalties beyond financial agreements. At least an autocrat like Naraka has a state to look after."

One of the ministers walked up to the Chairman, and received Chan's attention for a moment.

"...," Ward said.

"It could be going better," Kiros agreed, quietly enough that Ward could hear him but Chan could not. "But you can never really tell what he's thinking until you let him talk for a while."

The Chairman finished whatever business he had with the minister, and returned his attention – such as it was – to Kiros and Ward. "Parliament has already voted on these matters. Our policy is entirely capable of dealing with Galbadia without assistance."

_And how did it work for you last year?_ Kiros nearly asked. He also didn't point out that one directive from Chan to the party leaders could easily change that vote's result. "The President would like to make his case to the people of Esthar," he said instead. "He won't call for any specific measures, but he will say that Esthar does not exist in a vacuum and should engage with the nations of the world for our own good and theirs. And he does feel that the close relationship between Garden and Galbadia is one of the most important dangers we face. He would appreciate an invitation to address the Parliament where he would deliver this message."

Chan arched an eyebrow, and finally spared a moment to stare at Kiros. For years, he had been telling Laguna when and where he would be speaking, and what he would be saying. Kiros knew it was a risk daring him to invite the President of Esthar into the Parliament so that he could diss Chan's agenda. But it wasn't like they would get anywhere otherwise.

"The president has a habit of believing he can change the world with a few words in the right place," he said. "I had hoped the two of you could keep it in check."

"...," said Ward, incredulously.

"That's right," said Kiros. "That habit of his overthrew Sorceress Adel; we don't really _want_ to keep it in check."

After another moment, Chan nodded, adjusting his glasses and returning his attention once more to the legislative book. "Very well, then."

Kiros blinked. "...What?"

"If the president wishes to address the Parliament on the threat of Galbadia, he is welcome to do so," Chan said. "He must, of course, take note of the steps the government has already taken to counter Galbadia's threat, and more generally his remarks should be cleared through the Minister of Communication to ensure that the government is speaking with one voice for a steady application of policy."

Kiros sighed. "The President has been elected four times now. Isn't it strange that everyone in Esthar has the freedom of self-expression except him?"

"The President's words can be a powerful force," said Chan. "And if they aren't properly directed, they can have a very counterproductive effect; there have certainly been examples enough of this over the years. He can say what you want him to say, but it's important that we craft exactly how he says it."

That was the best Kiros would get, and he knew it. "He won't be happy about that," he said, though he knew Chan wouldn't care.

"Maintenance of the President's happiness is not among my enumerated responsibilities," Chan said. "Now, thank you for your time; I must bring the session to order, so please excuse me."

The usher stepped forward. Kiros and Ward, sparing a glance to each other, turned and followed him back out of the chamber.

"See," said Kiros. "That didn't go so bad."

"...," Ward said, his pessimism apparent.

"We knew it was a long shot," said Kiros. "As for what happens, I guess we'll see."

- - **- — — -** - -

By the time Miranda sat down with Cas Haden, the _Times_' beat reporter for South Lanker, she had a sheaf of papers tucked under her arm in addition to those stuffed in her shoulder-bag to accompany her laptop.

"Are you sure I'm going to like this?" she asked, eyeing the primarily paste-like meal that had been picked out for her. "It looks kind of like what my boyfriend's cat threw up last week."

"It's good," Haden said. "They make it from fish. It's a really big delicacy over in Winhill."

Miranda's eyes narrowed. "What _part_ of the fish?"

"It's good," he repeated. "So when you got here, you said you were doing a story on some mysterious pirate ship in Centra. Where does the press conference come in?"

"Right," Miranda said, setting aside her paste for a while. "I was in the base's records office looking for whatever I could find about this ship they're tracking, and —"

"The records office?" he interrupted. "How'd you get access in there?"

"I used my overpowering cuteness," Miranda said. "Anyway, everything I found was classified J-2 – which, you know, what the hell kind of pirate threat is classified Joint Command's eyes only? – but I came across a comm summary for the past few days, and in _that_ I found a lot of references to something called 'Frostwater.'" She took a spoonful of paste, and just eyed it. "You're sure people actually eat this?"

"Just try it." He was halfway through his already. "What's Frostwater?"

"I dunno – but whatever it is, it was classified JC-_5_. That plus the number of times it turns up in the traffic says it's _gotta_ be big. Plus, I _could_ see the file prefix, and the code was USO – which is one I'd never seen before."

Haden frowned. "I don't know it either."

"Yeah, well I looked it up later. It stands for Unified Strategic Operation – and the reason why neither of us has heard of it is because there's never been one. _Ever_." She leaned in over the table, lowering her voice and setting down her spoon. "We're talking about a mobilization of every division of the armed forces. That's huge."

"Yeah," he said, nodding in agreement. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Well, you've got the press conference," Miranda said, as if the answer were obvious. "Ask about it." She picked up the spoon again, and began working the nerve back up to try her lunch.

"Tolmar?" he asked, looking stunned.

"Yeah," said Miranda, oblivious to his mood. "By name, too – so they know we're not just rumor-mongering." She finally took a tentative bite of the fish-paste.

"Are you cazy? You think I should just stand up and ask a senior Galbadian general, 'Hey, what's Operation Frostwater?'"

"Mmm," confirmed Miranda. "You know, you're right. This isn't half bad." She ate another, larger clump.

"You can't seriously think she'll say anything if you just ask her point-blank in the middle of a press room!"

"No, of course not," she said. "The G-men are wound up so tight they won't let anything slip unless they think we already know. Think of it as smoking them out."

He wasn't impressed by the comparison. "Look, I don't know how things work in the main office, but my job down here is to establish a relationship with these people. I've already got to turn in 40 centimeters about the NALCON, and you don't get results by trying to spook your sources."

"Depends on the results you're trying to get," Miranda said. "In this case —"

"Look, no way," he insisted. "The second they think we're out to get them, every potential source is gonna —"

"Do you know where all Tolmar's been in the last week?" Miranda asked. "And she's leaving for Deling, what, tonight? You don't have senior staff hopping around this much unless something big is going on."

"That doesn't mean —"

"And you've _seen_ all the preparations they're doing around here. I called around – this sort of thing is going on at every military base we've got reporters near. And I'm betting it's because of Frostwater, whatever that is. It's gonna happen _soon_."

"None of that matters!" Haden was getting exasperated. "I've been doing this long enough to know that if you go around freaking out the people you're trying to get news from, it does _not_ make them want to talk to you!"

Miranda jumped in, but Haden kept on talking. "If I'm right, we don't have a lot of time, and getting them off-balance is the only way to knock them off-message!" she insisted.

"— Plus, if this _is_ big, it'll make them suspicious and dry things up for _all_ our reporters in the middle of a national crisis!" he finished.

There was a pause, as both tried to figure out what the other had been saying.

Miranda sighed. "I know I haven't been doing this for long," she said, "but my thing is getting people to talk about things they don't want to talk about. And I'm telling you this is the only way we're going to figure this out. And if there's blowback, just tell the main office it was my dumb idea. They'll believe you."

"I don't care about who gets the blame," Haden said. "I care about doing _my_ job, which is to maintain a relationship with these people."

"Cas, come on," Miranda said. "Your job's to get the story. I know relationships are a good way to do that, but not this time. This could be the biggest story in...I dunno how long, but a while. And I don't think we have much time to get it."

Haden was silent for a moment; Miranda just watched him with her best not-quite-pleading expression.

"Okay," he said.

Miranda let out the breath she had been holding. "Thank you," she said.

"Don't," he said, standing. "I regret this already."

"Yeah," said Miranda, taking another spoonful of her food. "I get that a lot."


	37. Catalysts

Naraka had been in the middle of his ninth situation briefing in a row when General Tolmar's priority call had come in. Not one for bucking his schedule, he had the call held until the meeting was over, even though he had wanted a word with the General in any event. Now that she'd had a chance to explain the reason for her urgency, the fact of the delay certainly didn't help his mood.

"_WHAT?_" he demanded of the videophone in front of him.

"_Obviously, I refused to comment and strongly warned against speculation,"_ Tolmar's image said. _"But I think we must regard the question itself as something of a warning that their outlet knows of the plan."_

"I do not take _warnings_ from the _Dollet Times_!" Naraka exploded. "_They_ take warnings from _me_! I want an immediate investigation into how this information came into their possession; and if the media causes any difficulty for us in executing the operation, there will be hell to pay — _beginning_ with their outlet being shut down!" His voice became a few degrees more calm. "You're the one they approached, so you handle the matter. No need to publicly draw anyone else into it."

"_Of course, sir,"_ said Tolmar. _"But we should consider the possibility that the _Times_ is not the only publication with knowledge of the plan, and others will certainly investigate after hearing this reporter's question. There's no way to warn them off the story without signaling that it has merit."_

"Which is why you promptly find and _severely_ discipline the source of this leak," said Naraka impatiently.

"_Of course, sir. However, given the scale of the operation, it would take some time to conduct a comprehensive review."_ Tolmar hesitated. _"Sir, it's hardly encouraging that word of the operation has reached the media before it has even been approved. We may have to consider it an operational reality that there can't be any guarantees regarding secrecy on an undertaking of this scale."_

"We are operating at a serious force disadvantage, General, that can only be overcome effectively by surprise. Therefore, _any_ threat to that element of the operation must be treated as a grave operational threat; is that clear?"

"_It is, sir, and I agree. But should the operation be implemented, subsequent phases would be far harder to mask, especially with the media on the lookout."_ She shook her head. _"At this point, I seriously doubt the Frostwater contingency is feasible at all."_

Naraka narrowed his eyes at her. "There is no other deployment that can satisfy our goals as effectively."

"_No,"_ agreed Tolmar._ "But the plan does leave little margin for uncertainty, and I fear we have already exceeded that margin."_

Naraka was silent for a moment, fixing Tolmar with a wary look. "I understand," he said finally, glancing down at the report on his desk, "that the SeeD operation assisting our search force in Centra has been terminated."

Tolmar nodded, frowning at the sudden change of subject. _"Yes, sir. By decision of the review officer; the SeeDs were becoming too curious about their target."_

"Indeed, the report essentially concludes that they knew themselves to be tracking other SeeDs."

"_Yes, sir,"_ Tolmar confirmed.

"Yet I also understand that these SeeDs were simply taken back to the continent, and released." He eyed Tolmar. "I assume this was at your discretion."

"_Their contract specifies treatment in the event of its nullification,"_ said Tolmar. _"There's no basis on which to detain them."_

"You aren't at all concerned that they might return straight to Garden with this information?"

"_I am,"_ Tolmar said. _"However, I don't believe we have any options at this point."_

"And I imagine you had doubts regarding the wisdom of _that_ operation as well," he said.

Tolmar blinked. _"I'm sorry, sir?"_

"The SeeDs represent an operational threat to critical ongoing and future missions," said Naraka, "including Frostwater. They should have been neutralized, or at least delayed from contacting Garden until they were too late to do any good. Instead, you have allowed them to compound the uncertainty that so concerns you." His tone had become dangerously harsh. "I know your opinion of my strategic policy, General, but until recently you have at least been competent in executing it."

Tolmar was clearly taken aback. _"Lord-General, I simply didn't think it prudent to abrogate our contract with Garden over an operation that has yet to be approved."_

"An operation you wish not to take place. General, I respond quite poorly to those who attempt to undermine my agenda."

It took Tolmar a second to organize a response to this. _"Sir, I have no intention of undermining our national security," _she said,_ "or your efforts to preserve it."_ Her tone, until now carefully even, was becoming strained. _"But with respect, Frostwater was always only the most severe of several options, and others remain available to us. We have high-confidence reports suggesting that a policy of measured deterrent escalation could still produce a favorable outcome, given the political realities in—"_

"That's _enough_, General!" Naraka snapped. "I will not consign Galbadia's future to political guesswork! Nor am I interested in hearing excuses for why a thing cannot be done! Now, you will find the traitor who has been talking to the press, and you will ensure that there are no others to follow; you will ensure that the media do _nothing_ to jeopardize any element of our national defense, and you will accomplish these tasks without reservation, as _I_ will hold you personally responsible for their success. This operation is _critical_ to Galbadia's future, and it _will_ be accomplished! Is that _clear_?"

For a moment, the two simply stared at each other through the screen. Then, Tolmar straightened. _"Absolutely, sir. Will there be anything else, sir?"_

Naraka's face had come within a few centimeters of the screen at times during the conversation. Now, he leaned back. "You've always been an effective officer, General. Loyal." He hesitated for the barest second. "But I do not have time for doubts or half-hearted execution. Once you have completed your business at South Lanker, report to East Academy to review the garrison there. General Sarden will take over your responsibilities."

Tolmar looked down, and almost imperceptibly shook her head. Then, she saluted. _"Sir."_

"_That_ will be all," Naraka said, terminating the link.

- - **- — — -** - -

The day was turning out to be rather overcast, which wouldn't make their search any easier. They had been zig-zagging through the remains of the Timber forest since dawn, having left their vehicles behind when the terrain became unmanageable for them, without any clear sign of Squall or Rinoa. Even so, Quistis was sure they were getting close.

She had barely slept the previous night. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was Squall would be heading for Timber — it was at least somewhat familiar terrain, and he could at least potentially get medical care for Rinoa and find someplace to hide out, to say nothing of the possibility of linking up with the Forest Owls or another resistance faction that might be sympathetic. Given what they knew, it seemed to be his best option.

What this meant for her, then, was that they had to separate themselves from the Galbadians sooner rather than later. If they had to enter the city, they needed to do it without a Galbadian escort, so as not to alert the soldiers there of the circumstances surrounding their presence; and there would be no better opportunity than while they and a relatively small contingent of Galbadians were off in the woods, cut off from any support.

But sound as the logic was, the actual act of turning on their escorts was something else, especially as Quistis couldn't quite rid herself of the fear that she might be entirely off-base about Squall's actions, and wind up tipping her hand too soon.

"Sir!" called one of the soldiers, kneeling down by one of the smaller trees that was trying to grow amidst the burned-out stumps.

The Galbadian captain headed over to join him. "What is it, Private?"

"Broken stick, sir!" the soldier said, holding up the stick to demonstrate. "Could be a clue!"

Although Quistis couldn't see the captain's face, she was sure he rolled his eyes at that. She smiled despite herself.

While the Galbadians' attention was distracted, however, she swallowed and turned to her fellow SeeDs. "It's almost time to act," she said, _sotto voce_.

"Finally!" said Zell, slamming one fist into his opposite palm for effect.

"When?" asked Nida.

"On my order," said Quistis.

"You think we're getting close?" asked Irvine.

Quistis sighed. "I think so. Just be ready."

But Jeck was shaking his head. "This is crazy," he said. "We're seriously gonna turn on our employer to hunt down a renegade?"

"How can you _say_ that?" demanded Paige.

"Hey, Squall never asked for our help," Jeck shot back. "He ran off and left us in jeopardy. If it was you or me who'd done that, you think anyone'd be running to help us?"

"Yeah, I do!" Paige said, glancing at Zell.

"Look man, Squall's our friend," Zell said. "So why don't you just shut up, okay?"

"Guys," said Nida, eyeing the dozen Galbadian soldiers in the area, some not all that far away. "We probably shouldn't be —"

"No, why don't _you_ start using your brain, okay?" Jeck said. "Suppose Squall _was_ trying to protect us when he ran off and beat the hell out of you and Quistis. What you're talking about would completely undo that, and Galbadia would probably retaliate against Garden!"

"Jeck, be quiet," said Quistis. "This isn't a discussion."

"I haven't even got to the part where it's totally against our contract," Jeck said. "So under what basis am I supposed to take your orders?"

"You know, I've really had enough of you," Zell said.

"Well, ain't that tragic," said Jeck. "This is idiotic, and so are you for going with it!"

"Hey, you take that back!" Selphie snapped.

"It's like the Sorceress got you all under some damn spell," Jeck said, looking disgusted. "She burns down a hospital and Squall wants to protect her, and you want to _join_ her? What —"

His sentence was cut off as Zell shoved him, hard. Jeck stumbled backward, tripped over a tree stump, and fell on his back.

"Zell!" Quistis snapped.

"Her name's Rinoa," Zell told Jeck. "Don't call her 'the Sorceress.'"

Jeck got up, glaring at Zell. "Hell with you," he said, and took a swing at Zell's head. Zell dodged, grabbed Jeck's arm and used the momentum of his follow-through to swing the other SeeD around, then flipping him over his left leg; Jeck fell back to the ground, but managed to hook his own leg around Zell's and knock him off balance. He then threw a handful of dirt at Zell's face, and tried to kick him in the groin. He missed, striking Zell's hip instead, but still managed to knock him off his feet as well. Both of them were on the ground by the time the Galbadian captain came running up.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded. The other soldiers were closing around them as well. "Don't you people have _any_ sense of discipline?"

"Don't worry about it," said Jeck, picking himself up. He was still clearly furious. "Just a little tactical disagreement. It's fine."

"The hell," said the captain. "You two are finished. Sergeant!" He pointed to one of the other soldiers. "Escort them back to the trucks!"

"_What_?" Zell demanded.

"I _said_, don't worry about it," Jeck growled.

"You're all on a short leash here," said the captain. "And I'm not bothering with anyone who can't keep themselves under control. Surrender your weapons."

A pair of Galbadian soldiers stepped forward. "Get off me!" Jeck snapped as one grabbed for his flail; he batted the man's arm away, and before Quistis could react, they were wrestling for the weapon.

"—Hey!" she shouted, but was too late to prevent Jeck from decking the soldier with a nasty swipe of his elbow.

And that was it. One of the Galbadian officers fired a single shot at Jeck from his arm-gun; it caught Jeck in the shoulder, but didn't injure him seriously. A second later, Irvine had snapped up his shotgun and unloaded both barrels straight into the soldier's chest. Zell sent both the Galbadians near him to the ground with a sequence of jabs powerful enough to shatter both their helmets. Quistis had her chain whip out wrapped around the Sergeant's neck before he knew what was happening; one swift tug, and his neck was broken. Paige and Karenna were sparring with a trio of soldiers for about four seconds before Selphie whacked one in the back of the head with her nunchaku, distracting another long enough for Karenna to drive a dagger in just under his chestplate. Paige hit the third with a Blizzaga an instant before she herself was targeted with a Firaga blast. Seven Galbadians were dead before anyone had a chance to think.

When Quistis did get that chance, the first thing she did was find the captain. "Regrou—" he managed to bark before she had shaken her chain whip free of the Sergeant and sent the business end of it straight toward his throat. He managed to stop the bladed end with his arm, but the force still smashed the radio she assumed he had been about to use to call for backup. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Zell taking on another one of the officers, a recovered Jeck finishing off the soldier he had knocked down to start all this, and the others teaming up on the remaining two. But she didn't have a lot of attention to focus on any of that, as the captain had recovered, and looked quite furious.

"Damn SeeD," he growled. "You been planning this all along?" He charged at her, swinging his gun-arm too hard and fast for Quistis to dodge; she twisted to deflect a bit of the blow, but still staggered under it. He took advantage, and cocked the weapon directly at her head. "Traitors!"

Quistis' whip lashed out again, wrapping around his arm; she yanked it off to the side as he fired, then delivered a jump-kick that was supposed to knock him off his feet. Instead, he took the blow, and whipped out his sidearm with his left hand. The shot caught Quistis in the side, and it was she who fell to the ground. The officer aimed to shoot her in the head this time, but she struck his legs with her whip, knocking him down as well. Her GF allowed her to shrug off the gunshot enough to hop back to her feet and kick the pistol out of the soldier's hand. He looked at her with a tremendously hateful expression, evident even with his eyes hidden by his helmet, and swung his arm-gun up, meaning to take another shot at her; but she had brought her chain whip down squarely on his neck before he could.

"I am sorry about this," she said, as he died. "It isn't personal."

She then looked around. All the Galbadians now lay dead, and the SeeDs were all on their feet, if bloodied and more than a little dazed. Jeck in particular was looking around at the scene, wide-eyed.

"...Okay," she said, doing her best to ignore how hard her own heart was pounding. "We need to get all their IDs, then leave the area as soon as possible. And look for a place where we can hide the bodies."


	38. Constraints

Rinoa was still asleep. It was now afternoon, and Squall was getting noticeably edgy. Seifer was getting impatient as well, though not entirely for the same reason.

"The hell you waiting for, Squall?" he asked. "Galbadia's gonna be combing these woods. You think they won't find us if you just sit here all day?"

Squall cast him an annoyed glance, but didn't respond directly. "...Rinoa?" he asked, kneeling beside her. "Please, give me a sign."

"Look, she's been like that since you found her, right?" Seifer asked. "I don't think you're gonna _talk_ her out of it." That got his attention. "I don't care what happened at the last place; she needs help, and she won't get it here."

"...I need to know she'd be safe," said Squall. "The Galbadians could be watching the hospitals."

"So maybe we get her out of Galbadia," said Seifer. "You made it into Esthar once before, right? They know plenty about Sorceresses and magic and all that."

"Too far," Squall said. "And last time, they tried to freeze her, like they did with Adel. I can't trust them. I _won't_ take the chance."

Seifer frowned. "...Fine, then you've gotta try Garden. Even if—"

"_No!_" Squall snapped, jumping to his feet. "I can't get Garden involved!"

"Well, who _else_ do you think there is?" Seifer demanded. "You haven't got a lot of options here, Squall! And you can't just run through the woods forever and hope she magically gets better somehow!"

"You don't think I know that?" Squall demanded. "I did all this to protect Garden and protect Rinoa! I'm not going to jeopardize either of them!"

"You're jeopardizing _both_, right now!" retorted Seifer. "You think the Galbadians forgot you're from Garden just because you ran off on your own? And suppose there is something wrong with Rinoa you don't know about yet. She could be dying! You wanna take that chance?"

"Since when did you care?" Squall demanded. "You've tried to _kill_ her before!"

Seifer's jaw clenched. "This isn't about me."

"So stay out of it." Squall turned away, and walked off toward nowhere in particular.

Seifer shook his head, and turned away himself. Towards the edge of the treeline, he saw two other figures, silently watching from a safe distance; Seifer went to join them.

"Looks like we're not leaving yet," Seifer said.

"I dunno, man," said Raijin. "I've been hearin' noises in the distance. Like engines, ya know."

"Closing in," Fujin agreed.

"Figures," said Seifer. He glanced back at Rinoa. "I don't care what Squall says, she needs a doctor. And there's not enough forest around to hide from the G-Army for long. I'm gonna see if Commander Hero'll take her into town, at least; there's some Resistance connections we can call up, see if they can help."

Fujin looked grim. "Won't."

Seifer frowned. "Look, I know they don't know Rinoa's a Sorceress, but she's got history with them. Besides, we can keep 'em from turning her in."

But Fujin was shaking her head. "No," she said, and nodded to Squall. "Won't _agree_."

"Yeah, so he's too busy kicking himself right now to think straight," Seifer said. "Still, he's gotta—"

"More than that," Fujin said. "He's given up everything to keep Rinoa safe. Now it's the only thing that's keeping him going, and he can't let himself trust anyone else. The longer this goes on, the worse it'll get. He'll want to get away from us before long, too."

"I think she's on to something there," said Raijin. "Squall's never been much for teamwork, ya know."

Seifer looked back. Squall was sitting now, pressing his hand to his head and shaking. _The guy's a wreck_, he realized. _...I wish I couldn't sympathize._

"You guys go into town and track down the Forest Owls," he said. "When you get back..." He shook his head. "We'll think of something."

- - **- — — -** - -

Miranda had been kept waiting in the conference room of the South Lanker naval compound for a good ten minutes. The two soldiers who had escorted her there from her apartment were standing on either side of the door, staring straight ahead with carefully blank expressions. She had been relieved of her notebook, pen and shoulder-bag, and the room was almost comically spartan; she was vaguely curious as to whether the Galbadians had actually cleaned it out just so she wouldn't do any reporting on their property.

When the door did open, it admitted a stern-looking woman in a Galbadian general's uniform, carrying a thin briefcase; after nodding for the guards to step outside, she set the briefcase on the opposite Miranda. She remained standing herself, positioned so that the Galbadian emblem patterned into the center of the table stood directly between them.

"General Tolmar," Miranda said, raising her eyebrows. "Wow. Uh...nice to meet you. ...I don't suppose you'd want to comment on —"

"Be quiet," snapped the general. Opening the briefcase, she withdrew two folders, setting both on the table in front of her and opening one. Miranda craned her neck, and made out a trio of photographs that appeared to be of her. "Ms. Foster, you are becoming a problem for us."

"Is that my file?" asked Miranda. "You have a file on me?"

"You're proving to be one of your media's more troublesome reporters, Ms. Foster," Tolmar said. "And we've taken notice."

"Thanks," said Miranda, her tone just a little less flippant than usual. "My dad always did say you could judge a person best by her enemies."

Tolmar looked in no mood for attitude. "What do you know about Frostwater?" she asked.

Miranda blinked. "...Well, I know you guys were drinking something wacky when you came up with your code names."

"I know the question at the briefing came from you," Tolmar said. "Your conversation with Mr. Haden was overheard, and he has already been dealt with."

"Dealt with?" Miranda asked, leaning forward. She was beginning to feel a little light-headed. "What do you mean? —Look, it wasn't his fault; I practically forced him to —"

"We know precisely what your, and his, involvement was, Ms. Foster," said Tolmar. Her voice was low, but carried a dangerous tone. "Don't waste my time. Simply know that the consequences for you, him, and many others can become far more severe if you do not cooperate here. Now, what do you know about Frostwater?"

Miranda shook her hand, putting a hand to her temple. "I know it's the biggest operation you guys have ever put on, and it's gonna be happening soon, if it isn't already. I've been trying to find out more. You're not making it easy."

"You're to stop pursuing the matter immediately," said Tolmar. "This is an issue of the utmost national security."

"Look," said Miranda, "I get it. But I'm not from your nation, and it's not my job to protect your security."

"No," said Tolmar. "It's mine. And that includes making things as difficult for you as necessary to prevent you from revealing classified information to the public."

"Right," Miranda said sarcastically. "Because what could be more dangerous than if people know anything about what you're really doing?"

"This is not a philosophical discussion; this is a very practical one. I have seen too many lives lost due to rash actions to have any illusion that the public is done a service by letting you carry on as you please. Now, your career is that of one who is ambitious but not particularly thoughtful, especially where your actions' impact on others is concerned. That changes now, or your career will come to a very swift and unceremonious end."

Miranda had never been threatened so directly before, and certainly not by a top-ranked general. Her heart was pounding, but she clenched her jaw and willed herself to stay in control. "...You know," she said. "I can think of worse ways to go."

"I can _make_ it worse," said Tolmar. "Your newspaper will be shut down; your father will lose his contracts with Galbadia and be investigated for tax fraud. Your college friend Deg, who runs a subversive website, will find himself charged with sedition. I could go on — but I trust you see my point."

It took Miranda several seconds to think up a response. "I—" she started, but her voice caught. "You c—"

Tolmar simply folded her arms. "This is bigger than you, Ms. Foster," she said softly. "And it's bigger than me. And it's not about ideals or morality. It's about responsibility, and survival."

Miranda sat down, and rested her head on her hand. She felt dizzy, and very deflated.

"...Fine," she said, almost whispering. "You win. I'll drop it."

Tolmar was silent for a few seconds herself before responding. "Then that will be all," she said, looking down at the center of the table.

Miranda took another few seconds to compose herself, then stood. She took another look at Tolmar, then turned to leave.

"Ms. Foster," Tolmar said, just before she opened the door.

Miranda turned around. Tolmar picked up the folder containing Miranda's file, and returned it to her briefcase. Then she picked up the second folder and slid it across the table towards her. Miranda, confused, glanced down at it, and saw the word **FROSTWATER** printed on the label.

Even more confused, she looked up at Tolmar.

"Remember _everything_ I said," the general warned. "And no part of this meeting should make it back to your paper. Is this clear?"

Miranda frowned. "...Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

The two stared at each other for another moment; Miranda thought for the first time that she caught some trace of emotion behind Tolmar's expression. Or maybe it was her imagination.

Tentatively, she picked up the folder, turned, and left. Once she was gone, Tolmar closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, shaking her head. Then she closed her briefcase and left the room as well.

- - **- — — -** - -

Keri had been staring at her meal for the past five minutes. She hadn't eaten at all that day, having spent most of it going through processing at the Galbadian naval base they had been dropped off at; but she wasn't remotely hungry either.

"You know," said Mara, "I can't stop thinking about the mission. It's the stupidest thing, but I think I've figured out where the...whoever they were, where they went."

"Oh?" asked Keri.

"We had it all wrong," she said. "I mean, pirates raid shipping, and what shipping there is in Centra happens in the northeast. So we figured they'd keep around there, and use the storm for cover. Except they weren't pirates. They didn't want to raid ships; they just wanted to get away from the Galbadians."

Keri frowned. "So the guy was right. They went back north."

"No, they couldn't go north," said Mara. "They would have known they'd run into the Galbadian fleet that way. And they couldn't go south; their ship was damaged, so they wouldn't go for the wide sea." She shrugged. "They went east. The one direction the Galbadians couldn't close off."

"Toward Esthar?" Keri asked.

"Yeah. We never thought about it, because for pirates it'd be stupid — Esthar's even meaner to them than Galbadia, there's no shipping to raid, and nowhere to put ashore. But these guys aren't pirates."

Keri had to admit, it was coming together. "Esthar wouldn't have allowed the Galbadians to get close to their waters, and our balloons couldn't cover that area because of the winds."

Mara nodded. "And based on how long ago they must have left that island, they had a window. They could have already left Centra by the time we found that debris. I'm guessing they head for the Balamb archipelago, make more repairs, then run up to Trabia."

"Well," Keri said, raising her eyebrows. "It all makes sense."

"Yeah." Mara smiled wryly. "Mission accomplished."

The other two members of their group had barely said a word since their mission had been canceled. After a moment of silence where the four of them unenthusiastically picked at their food, Sean spoke up. "So, Tavin," he said. "About that time in the conference room, when you —"

"We're _not_ talking about that," said Tavin.

"Oh, we're not?" asked Sean. "That's too bad. 'Cause, see, I kinda do want to talk about how you went totally _crazy_ and said it was okay to track down fellow SeeDs."

"Sean, stop it!" Keri said. "He didn't say that."

"What's your problem, anyway?" asked Tavin. "You're a SeeD. Your mission is to execute your client's wishes. That's the end of the story."

"...Tavin?" Keri asked, astonished.

"You think those guys were acting under Garden authority?" asked Tavin. "Garden _can't_ authorize missions that go against Galbadia – it's in the contract. They must've gone rogue; so why should they get our protection?"

"Oh, so this is all letter of the law for you, then," said Sean. "So we don't have _any_ kind of obligation to fellow SeeDs in your book? Would you throw _us_ out the window that easy?"

"If you went off the book, yeah I would," said Tavin. "It's called _responsibility_."

"It's called being a _robot_!" retorted Sean. "I dunno who the hell thought you'd make a good leader, but —"

"That'd be Palmer," Tavin growled. "I don't know who thought _you'd_ make a good _anything_."

"_Shut up_, both of you!" Keri snapped. "We were just _used_, okay? The Galbadians didn't even respect us enough to tell us what our mission was! And I bet they didn't tell Garden — but maybe they did, and Garden didn't respect us either! But at the _least_ we could respect each other!" Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she turned and stalked away.

She stopped at the railing looking out over the beach. It was closed off to the public, being so near to the naval base, but she could watch a small cluster of warships in the distance sailing off to the southeast.

She still didn't know why the Galbadians wanted the other SeeDs so badly, or why they had become so edgy all of a sudden. There was something much bigger going on, but she didn't know a thing about it beyond the vague sense that it was there. And all they could do was go back to Garden and report that their mission had fallen apart. It was enough to make her want to scream.

Shaking her head, she turned away and crashed right into another young woman who had been approaching her, knocking the woman's shoulder-bag to the ground and spilling its contents onto the sidewalk.

"Sorry!" both of them said immediately, both bending down to recover the items – most of which were sheets of paper with notes scribbled over them.

"Don't worry about it," said the other woman, quickly collecting the papers. Keri detected a distinct Dollet accent. "It's fine."

"No, this is completely my fault," said Keri. "I was just distracted, and —"

"I understand," said the other woman. "Really. I've had a pretty crazy day too." Everything was back safely in her bag, and the two straightened. "So, uh – you're from Garden?"

Keri looked down at her uniform. "Galbadia Garden, yeah. You're from Dollet?"

The other woman nodded. "Born and raised. I'm a reporter for the _Times_ there now." She extended her hand. "Miranda Foster."

"Oh," said Keri, taking it. "Keri Thorsen."

"Nice to meet you," said Miranda. "I mean, besides the collision, but..." She hesitated for a second. "So, I heard you...yelling, earlier."

"Um." Keri grimaced. "That was —"

"No, I'm not —" Miranda sighed. "Look I just kind of...had a story fall through, and I was wondering. I ran into some SeeDs in Dollet a few days back, from Balamb, and they said they didn't know much about their mission either. So I'm wondering how, uh, forthcoming the Galbadians have been being with SeeD about the jobs they want you to do, or —"

"Keri." Tavin had come up on her at some point during the conversation. "...What's going on here?"

"Oh, hi," said Miranda. "My name's Miranda Foster; I'm a reporter with the _Dollet_ —"

"We don't talk to press," Tavin said, grabbing Keri's arm and dragging her away.

"Tavin!" Keri protested, trying to pull her arm free. "Hey – stop it! I know how to walk!" He finally released her, but kept heading back to the table. "What is _with_ you?"

"You know the protocol," said Tavin. "The hell were you talking to a reporter for?"

"I didn't _say_ anything," she said. "She was just..." She stopped walking.

Tavin took a few seconds to notice, then he stopped too. "...Now what?"

Keri didn't answer right away; Miranda's words were just now working through her mind. "...It's not just us," she said. "Something she said. This whole thing is..."

"Forget about it!" said Tavin. "Look, I'm sorry, but we can't just decide to change the rules when we don't like them! The mission's over, so what we do now is we go back to Garden, make our report, and wait for our next assignment! That's the way it works!"

"...You know what?" Keri asked. "If this is what the system's like when it's _working_, maybe it _needs_ to break." She turned around, and started back towards Miranda.

"Keri!" Tavin grabbed for her arm again, but Keri dodged. "Galbadia basically runs our Garden, okay? You remember what they did the _last_ time we pissed them off?"

"Tavin, you were the maddest of everyone at what they were doing to us!" she said. "I don't care if there was a contract, I don't care if we got paid! We're _SeeDs_, and they can't just do what they please with us! I'm not okay with that!" She fixed him with a challenging glare. "Why are you?"

Tavin hesitated for a second, then looked past her at Miranda. Then he winced, raising his fists like he wanted to hit something, and relaxed a moment later. "...Hell with it," he finally said. "Do what you want."

Keri paused for a second. "...Thanks, Tavin," she said, touching him lightly on the arm.

Then she turned around and headed back to Miranda, who hadn't moved. "...Should I ask?" she said.

"I..." Keri started, before realizing she had no idea what to say. "Um...I don't really know how to...say this. I guess I'll just..." She sighed. "I think the Galbadians are up to something. They were acting really weird, like...suspicious of us. It got worse day by day; I feel like it's gonna happen soon. Plus..." She paused, as she saw a shadow passing over Miranda's face. "...Do you _know_?"

Miranda nodded. "...It's insane. I've got the story of my career, and I can't write it. I'm sorry."

Keri frowned. "Well...can you do, um..." Another idea struck her. "You said you'd been talking to SeeDs from Balamb Garden?"

"Yeah." Miranda frowned as well.

"...Do you think you could get in touch with them again?"


	39. Phoenix

Ellone had always been able to tell when she was dreaming. She knew other people could do that too; she'd been told they felt it comforting, like they were in control. But for her, it could be downright terrifying. There was so much lurking in her mind that she didn't understand, and worse, she could never know what was her imagination and what she had gleaned from someone else's memory.

Sometimes, though, she would get a cold feeling that she couldn't escape, and she just _knew_ she was inside the mind of someone she would like nothing better than to forget she'd ever met, yet through the dream she knew them more intimately than anyone else ever could. When other people complained about having nightmares, she wondered if they could possibly know what a truly bad dream was.

Now she was having a nightmare — and she knew this memory was hers.

The dream had no sights or sounds, just feeling. There was incredible pain, and weariness, but both were overcome by an overriding malicious hate – insatiable, so ingrained as to go beyond any reason or purpose; it merely was, crowding out anything and everything else.

She had been in this mind before, and she knew she would never forget it. Ultimecia. Her will was so powerful that it took Ellone what felt like ages to find the other mind she knew was there. In many ways, it was the opposite – there was the pain, and anger, and both fueled their own sort of strength, but this was counterbalanced by a sense of kindness and selflessness, and all of this was tempered by a powerful sense of doubt that the mind itself resented. All this left it easily pushed aside by Ultimecia's tremendous presence.

Then, there was another mind as well – angry, and even more hateful than Ultimecia, but without focus, and there was desperation and even fear as well. This was Adel. She felt the mind change, regressing through time to before the desperation or the hate; a trace of the anger lingered, but to anyone who hadn't witnessed the change it would seem to be the mind of an entirely different person – and Ultimecia's mind quickly pushed it aside as well.

Ellone was now searching for that third, weakest mind, but it was lost again in the sea of hate. Adel was reacting to Ultimecia, fighting back, and the contest was excruciating. She could feel how enraged Adel was at the assault.

And not just at Ultimecia. Adel knew she was there, and that it was she who had brought Ultimecia's mind into hers. And Adel would always hate her for that, even more than she hated Ultimecia. And Ellone couldn't help but feel she was right to.

All she wanted to do was take Ultimecia's mind away and leave Adel in peace. But she couldn't; Ultimecia had to stay. And she had to put Adel out of her thoughts if she were to find the mind that she could save from this horror.

She knew no systematic way to search through someone else's mind; it was all done by instinct, and hers was failing her. Ultimecia's presence was growing stronger, crowding out everything else, including Ellone, and pushing into Ellone's mind itself.

This wasn't what had happened, she thought. This wasn't the memory.

Ellone tried to resist the advancing presence, but the mind she had reached into was now bent on crushing hers, more strongly than she could bear.

Panicked, she tried to disconnect herself, but the presence held on, smothering her mind and refusing to let her go. It continued to grow, until her entire universe seemed reduced to that cold, tired rage.

Her eyes flew open; she was in her bed, in Esthar, and awake, at least mostly, but she couldn't move — and the presence was still there, like a knife in her mind.

And she realized what had _really_ changed. This wasn't Ultimecia. It was something much, much worse.

The blackness returned, and the anger grew, crowding out all the pain and the exhaustion that had been paralyzing it. The mind had a purpose now, and was more driven than Adel or Ultimecia had ever been. Ellone felt as if her head would explode.

Then it was gone, and Ellone was awake. She lurched up, and fell straight out of bed; for a long moment, she simply lay on the floor, panting and shaking in a cold sweat, and no less horrified than before she awoke.

"...Oh, no," she breathed. "Oh, Hyne."

- - **- — — -** - -

It was evening, and Squall was lying with his back against the same tree he had slept by the previous night. He knew it was a bad idea, and that the Galbadians would eventually find him if he stayed in the same place, but he couldn't think where to go. He couldn't go where Rinoa might be recognized, or where he wouldn't be able to protect her, and he couldn't jeopardize Garden — for that matter, he couldn't _trust_ everyone at Garden; all it took was one student who thought it might be better to warn the Galbadians than to shelter a Sorceress. And he had to be able to protect Rinoa.

But the way it seemed to add up, he couldn't go anywhere, any more than he could stay where he was. Of course Seifer was getting frustrated, but it wasn't like Squall was stalling for time.

Or was it? At least here, Rinoa was safe for the moment. The trees were dense enough to give them some cover, but sparse enough that he could see danger coming a fair distance away.

Assuming he was awake when it came. It was late, and he was getting tired.

Rinoa moaned, and Squall was on his feet in an instant. "Rinoa?" he asked, kneeling by her side. "Rinoa, are you awake?"

Her eyes fluttered, and she raised a hand to her head. "...So tired," she muttered. "So..." Then she opened her eyes, and looked straight at him. "...Squall?"

Squall felt weightless. "It's me, Rinoa. Oh, thank Hyne. I thought you might..." He shook his head. "How do you feel?"

She sat up, swaying a bit; Squall put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she put her own hand on his. "...You came to rescue me," she said, smiling. "My knight."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," he said. "Rinoa, I'm sorry. But I'm here now, and I'll protect you. I promise you'll be safe from now on."

He caught something in Rinoa's eyes, an emotion he didn't recognize. Then, as he watched, a strange calm seemed to come over her. She smiled again, but it didn't feel right.

"Squall," she said. "It wasn't your fault. I know you did everything you could."

She stood. Squall did as well, more than a little astonished. She seemed to have completely recovered, and looked even taller than Squall remembered. He guessed this was because she was standing ramrod-straight, which itself looked a bit unnatural.

"Thank you for everything, Squall," she said. "You've been a good friend."

Squall frowned, and a chill passed through him. This wasn't right. "...Rinoa?"

She didn't say anything, or even acknowledge his words. She just turned and started to walk away.

"Rinoa!" Squall started after her. "What are you —"

It was as if he had been swatted by a giant invisible hand. Squall went flying backwards, slammed into the tree behind him, and fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Coughing, he looked up to see Rinoa had turned around to look at him. She sighed.

"Squall," she said, "I appreciate the thought. And I'm sorry it had to end like this."

He felt himself being lifted again, to hover about half a meter above the ground. Rinoa was shaking her head sadly, and by her expression it looked like she was chastening a child.

"But you can't follow me now," she said. "And you shouldn't try."

Squall was thrown backwards with even more force this time, crashing straight through the tree and striking another behind it. He never even felt himself hit the ground.


	40. Frostwater

Half a dozen generals and admirals were assembled in the Incident Center of Galbadia's presidential residence when Janis stepped in; the walls displayed force statistics for every Galbadian command, and one map was showing the locations of each unit covering the southern half of the world.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Janis, "the president." The officers all stood as Naraka entered the room and sat; Janis placed a folder in front of Naraka and left.

"Be seated." Naraka opened the folder. "I'm sure you've familiarized yourselves with the particulars of the matter. We face aggression on multiple fronts, but there is one particular adversary without which any threat would crumble. We are gathered here to approve a measure to eliminate that threat." He glanced around the table. "For the past year, the nation of Esthar has used its veil of secrecy to deflect attention from its systematic buildup of its military machine. It is now prepared to put that machine to use – and we have little time to stop it."

He turned to one of the generals, a short balding man with an expression that suggested he didn't make friends easily. "General Sarden, I trust you've reviewed the deployment scheme?"

"I have," Sarden replied. "The trickiest element will be maintaining silence from Timber long enough to move the heavies. But I can make it happen."

"Good," said Naraka. "Admiral Chass?"

"We have the force equivalent of five battleship groups in international waters within 12 hours of targets. Regional weather looks overcast for most of the coming week, so we should get cloud cover. We are concerned about a tropical storm that has been advancing over Centra, and our forces may need to be redeployed to avoid the worst of it, but it shouldn't pose any unmanageable difficulty."

Naraka nodded. "General Brading?"

The general shook his head. "Even at crash production, we wouldn't have a substantial intercontinental delivery system ready for another two weeks."

"And I wouldn't advise a crash program, sir," said another general. "It's likely to be noticed by foreign intelligence well before it could produce results."

"Very well," said Naraka. "Then it goes to Admiral Gorhallen. Admiral?"

The Admiral, a tall, thin man with a salt-and-pepper beard, frowned. "I have concerns," he said. "The delivery systems haven't been field-tested, and the vessels aren't certified for long-range travel. They couldn't leave the vicinity of the port."

"That's a limitation I'll accept," said Naraka.

"Lord-General," said the third general. "I feel I should note that our original plan for this operation called for both our land-based and sea-based delivery capacity to figure prominently in Phase One of execution. By executing without a land-based capacity, we're already reducing the damage potential by more than fifty percent. This will attach higher risk to each subsequent phase of the operation."

"And that is unfortunate," said Naraka. "But we are without choice in the matter."

"Perhaps not," the general said. "My office believes, with reasonable confidence, that Esthar's provocative behavior is merely a response to our own ongoing search for the renegade SeeDs in North Centra, and it has no immediate aggressive aims."

"_I_ am not so confident, General Viers," Naraka said coldly. "Dollet suffered needlessly during the second Sorceress War due to its sluggish response to Esthar's threat; I will not make the same mistake."

Viers frowned. "Lord-General, the Frostwater contingency is our only plan that calls for the use of strategic long-range strikes. A more measured alternative would offer us higher operational potential for success while allowing us to keep Frostwater in reserve until fully implementable."

"Then it seems we define 'success' quite differently," said Naraka. "We face a gathering threat from an already powerful foe. Once the dragon has been awakened, it will become impossible to kill — and I assure you, no show of restraint will be reciprocated. The _only_ avenue for success, general, is to cut of its head."

"Lord-General, if you please, consider —"

"I do _not_, General!" Naraka snapped. "Esthar endangers the sovereignty and security of Galbadia, and I am not content to wait until such a threat is ready to strike! I will deal with danger on my own terms, it will be dealt with _now_, and it is the responsibility of all of you to see that this happens! And I do consider failure at this to be no less than treason in time of war; do make _no_ mistake about that. Now, does anyone wish to lodge an official objection, or may we _continue_?"

The other command officers sat frozen, with expressions not unlike those of a chocobo caught in the headlights. The atmosphere in the room had become more than a little tense.

"Good." Naraka eyed the officers, who all seemed to be slightly spooked. "I know you are skeptical. That is Esthar's game, and they have played it quite well. They hid behind first their holographic shield, and then their buffoon of a president, seeking to banish all notion that they might still pose a threat. Yet they rebuild their armies, and expand their influence, always advancing just subtly enough to raise doubts about their aims. But I am not fooled. They mean to restore the dominion over this world that they held under Adel, and I will _not_ allow that to occur."

He glanced down at his folder, and the other officers spared brief, furtive glances among each other. "We should adhere to the shortest possible timetable to maximize surprise. Admiral Gorhallen, what is your time frame?"

"...We can execute the strikes within seventy-two hours," said the admiral.

"That's acceptable." Naraka looked around the table. "Then consider Frostwater in active execution as of now. Within a week, the nation of Esthar will no longer exist, and this danger will be gone for good."

**END OF PART TWO**


	41. Rendezvous

The predawn fog was so thick that Janson could barely see the ship's bow as he stepped out from the bridge. They were running dark, as they had every night for months, and so all would be shadow in any event. He could hear waves lapping against the ship's hull feel the deck gently swaying in time with them as the ship pulled against its anchor, but otherwise the ship seemed to have found its own pocket of reality, isolated from all the rest of the world.

He hadn't even had time to have the thought before he was reminded of its falsehood.

They'd detected the approaching vessel on passive sonar for some time, and made brief radio contact after he had decided to take the chance; so there was no surprise as the hum of its engine came from ahead of them. There were a few SeeDs already on deck, and Janson stepped down to join them.

The other vessel approached sedately, cutting its engine to glide into place along their starboard side. It was much smaller than the White SeeDs' ship, and its details were hidden in the fog, but its lines were unmistakable.

A lone figure appeared at the vessel's prow, emerging from a hatch behind the gun turret that currently sat unmanned, and cast a line across to one of the White SeeDs, who proceeded to tether the two craft together. Then the figure climbed up onto the railing and jumped onto the White SeeD ship's deck, in a sort of acrobatics that only another SeeD could manage.

Janson stepped up to greet her, saluting. "Hello, Xu," he said. "It's been a while."

Xu returned the salute. "Just a year," she said, sounding weary.

"I mean _really_," said Janson. The two of them started walking toward the bow. "We haven't really spoken since...well, since you left. "You were what, fourteen?"

"Thirteen," said Xu. "I tried to find you a couple times, but it was like you'd disappeared off the map. I'd at least expected to see you at the funeral."

Janson didn't answer for a moment. "...We mourned Cid and Matron in our own way," he finally said. "So how did you find us this time?"

"Some SeeDs from Galbadia Garden," Xu said. "The Galbadians hired them to track you down. That pointed me in the right direction, and I got a bit lucky."

Janson shook his head. "Galbadian SeeDs," he said. "And I hear from the news you've given Trabia a SeeD force now. How many mercenaries does this world really need?" Xu didn't answer, and he changed the subject. "...I'm guessing you didn't just come to catch up."

"I'm afraid not," said Xu. "...How much do you know about what the Galbadians are up to now?"

"Just what I hear on the radio," said Janson. "That, and they've been trying to kill us a lot lately."

"It's much worse than people know," Xu said. "We're days away from what could be the biggest war in our history. Galbadia's going to attack Esthar."

"Hyne," said Janson, although he didn't feel particularly shocked. "...Well, it almost had to happen sometime."

"It's been building up for a while," Xu agreed. "But I don't believe it can't be stopped. Galbadian policy is being dictated by a few of its military leaders, and I don't think its people want a war."

"So you're looking for a way to stop it?" asked Janson. "For the sake of Galbadia's people."

"For the sake of _everybody_," Xu said. "But I can't do it myself." She sighed. "...Janson, I know what you think about us. About me. And you're right about a lot of it; I was so concerned with keeping the Gardens running that I lost sight of why Cid wanted to build them in the first place." She looked away, out at the ocean that was hidden in fog. "But I don't need to tell you how much of a danger the Galbadians are. I came to ask for your help."

Janson smiled wanly. "Xu, I know how you feel. But the reason this ship exists is because not everyone agrees with Cid's dream of using SeeDs to try and make the whole world better."

"I know," said Xu. "And I never pretended to be an authority on what the world needs. But it doesn't need _this_."

"It doesn't need _us_ telling its nations what to do, either," Janson said. "By putting ourselves in that role, we leave SeeD open to subversion far beyond what Galbadia has done to you now. And it started the day SeeD was created; Cid took missions to support causes he believed in, but he also couldn't help but favor those with the funds to approach him. Galbadia Garden used to funnel troops straight into the G-Army; now it and Trabia have their own soldiers for hire. I won't go down that road as well."

"Not all evil uses magic, Janson," Xu insisted. "The Sorceress isn't the only threat."

"Evil tends to inspire other evils," said Janson. "Even in those who oppose it. We fight the Sorceress because she uses her power to dominate others, to coerce and control. We use our power to prevent such things; I won't take part in them myself."

"This isn't philosophical." Xu's voice was becoming strained, though the difference from her previous tone was subtle. "Together, I think we can stop this war. But I can't do it alone."

"Suppose we stop _this_ war," said Janson. "And Galbadia and Esthar are back at each other's throats in five or ten years. Do we stop them then, too? Do we replace their leaders with people more to our liking? Or do we just take control of their armies and force them to behave?" He shook his head. "We can't just take things one issue at a time. That's what Cid did — and look where it got us."

Xu closed her eyes; Janson couldn't tell if she was exasperated or exhausted, but guessed she was both. "...I can't stop wondering," she said, more quietly. "If Cid hadn't...if he and Matron were still here, would this still be happening?"

"We can't know for sure," Janson said. "I think it would. Still...I've had the same thought." He sighed. "We just barely got away this time. A lot of the crew are wondering how much longer we can go on like this. Or should. And I can't offer them anything except more of the same, for god knows how long."

They stood in silence for a time; neither of them quite knew what more they could say to comfort the other, as each empathized rather too closely with the other's mood.

Maybe it didn't really matter what course they took, Janson thought. Either way, SeeD was doomed to fail.

"I'd better get back," Xu said.

"You can't stay for a few minutes?" asked Janson. "I'm sure everyone would like to see you."

"I shouldn't," said Xu. "Whatever I'm going to do, I should get started. I'm not ready to give up yet."

Janson smiled. "I had a feeling."

Xu smiled, and Janson caught a hint of the kid he remembered. She started back to her transport, but paused after a few steps and turned back to him. "But stop by sometime. It was good seeing you."

"You too," Janson said.


	42. Compulsions

**June 13**

Squall awoke to a sharp pain in his left arm. For a moment, he was too dazed to remember where he was or what had caused it; he was simply lying on his side, feeling tremendously sore, with a massive headache and rough grass itching at his neck.

"Uhh..." he said, shifting uncomfortably, before everything came rushing back. "...Rinoa!" He sat bolt upright, which sent such a pain through his arm that he nearly fainted again.

"Yeah, don't move around too much," said Seifer. "I just set that arm. Here." He handed Squall an X-potion.

Squall ignored him for a moment. "Rinoa...she..."

"Take the damn potion," snapped Seifer. "_Then_ you tell me what the hell is going on."

Squall took the potion. He felt the bone heal, but the dulled tingling sensation that usually accompanied magical healing made him even dizzier. Seifer watched him impatiently.

"...She just woke up," Squall said. "I didn't understand. She was acting..." He shook his head. "She attacked me. She was trying to leave. To...go somewhere."

Seifer looked incredulous. "Rinoa threw you through a tree? Why the hell would she do _that_?"

"I don't know," said Squall. "It was like when she was being controlled by Ultimecia." Seifer's face clouded. "Except...no, that's not it exactly." Shaking his head, Squall got to his feet. "I've gotta find her. Which way did she go?" He started looking around, trying to see the direction Rinoa had started off in while he was conscious.

"You think I'd be hanging around with you if I had any idea where she went?" demanded Seifer. "I was hoping you'd have something _useful_ to say when you woke up!"

"Well, maybe you should've been keeping a better watch!" snapped Squall. "If you hadn't let Rinoa get captured in the first place —"

"Hey!" Seifer was glaring. "You sure you wanna go back _there_, Squall?"

"I want to find Rinoa." Squall thought he had identified the direction, and started off, but Seifer caught his left arm. It still hurt.

"So do I," he said. "But I'm not gonna disappear on Fujin and Raijin, either. The four of us have got a better chance of finding her if we work together anyway."

"Since when did you care about patience and teamwork?" Squall demanded. "I won't just wait around!"

"Well, I'm not running into this half-assed!" Seifer retorted.

Squall glared at him. "...You're scared."

Seifer's eyes narrowed. "..._What_?"

"You're worried you'll lose it again, like you did with Ultimecia! And you're willing to abandon Rinoa rather than face up to it. You're a coward."

Seifer punched Squall in the head, hard enough to knock him off his feet. Squall bounced back up almost immediately and tackled him; the two crashed to the ground, Squall landing a few hard blows on Seifer before Seifer managed to get the leverage to throw him off.

"I know what I'm talking about, Squall!" shouted Seifer. "Yeah, okay, I've been down this road, so I _know_ where it goes! You're not gonna help anyone running off by yourself!"

Squall stared at him. His mind registered what Seifer had said, but was focused elsewhere. He remembered how Rinoa had willingly let herself be placed into the Sorceress Memorial in Esthar, even protested once he had freed her. She had never been comfortable with her Sorceress powers, and had sought to isolate herself from others because of them. That had to be what was happening now.

"I'm going to find Rinoa," he said. "And I don't need your approval. I don't need _you_."

He turned his back on Seifer, and stalked away. Seifer glared at his back as he did, then flopped to the ground, shaking his head.

- - **- — — -** - -

Rinoa had been through the forests surrounding Timber dozens – probably hundreds – of times, to the point where she could navigate almost by instinct, barely noticing the trees. The remains of Timber's historic woodlands had become just a theater for the Forest Owls' operations against their Galbadian occupier.

But everything looked different now. The trees and the grass seemed to be glowing with an energy Rinoa had never seen before and couldn't name; but the name didn't seem important, as she simply _knew_ its meaning. It told me how healthy the trees were, which branches were alive or dead, their age — everything she could need to know about them, it seemed. And the sense was not limited to that within her range of vision; everything, all around her, appeared just as clearly.

And she could see more clearly than she ever could before how badly the Galbadians had ravaged these woods. She could see the splotches of decayed earth where the fires of war had consumed all life, and the stumps that might still be growing but for Galbadian leveling, their deadness standing out amidst the new life that had overgrown them; in a way, the new growth was tainted itself. It looked wrong to her, and she knew precisely the source of the wrongness.

Indeed, her mind felt clearer than it ever had before. In addition to her ability to sense her environment more thoroughly than she had believed to be possible, her thoughts were sharper as well. With a thought, she could banish any doubt or reservation and focus wholly on what she had to do. The sense was one entirely new to her; one of unbending, total control. It was liberating.

She knew that the Galbadian soldiers were nearby well before they knew that she was. The group was moving on a standard patrol, of the sort she had encountered more than once while with the Forest Owls. Usually, such a patrol had prompted them to run or hide without delay; this time, she didn't hesitate or change her pace at all.

When the Galbadians did spot her, they assumed she hadn't seen them yet, and fanned out to surround her. There were a dozen of them, and they took their time, sweeping through the forest looking for any signs of an ambush. Finding none, they formed into a contracting circle, closing in on her from every direction.

They were actually quite good. But under the circumstances, the efforts were so misguided that Rinoa couldn't help but smile at the effort.

She finally stopped walking when they burst out from the trees, pointing weapons at her from every direction. "Freeze!" said the officer, who was pointing his machine gun straight at Rinoa's head.

Rinoa arched an eyebrow at him. "...No," she said. "You."

She threw up her arms, and the soldier let out an aborted scream as his blood froze solid within his veins. Rinoa had killed the two soldiers flanking him as well before the others had a chance to react; one Fire spell after another erupted around her, but Rinoa had more than enough time to shield herself before methodically working through the terrified soldiers. One even tried to charge her, but never even got close.

In fifteen seconds, it was over, and the frozen soldiers lay in what was still a rough circle around where Rinoa stood. She started off again in the direction she had been headed before, stepping over the officer's corpse without breaking stride.


	43. Preparations

"Good morning, General." The young man lieutenant saluted smartly as Tolmar stepped out of her transport at East Academy. "I'm Lieutenant Dolsson; I've been assigned as your staff assistant for your stay here."

Tolmar nodded, returning the salute. "Do you have a report?"

"Yes, ma'am." He kept pace with Tolmar as she started walking across the compound, where the cadets were in ranks for morning review. "We're beginning our accelerated training schedule this afternoon; final examinations for the June class have been moved up to tomorrow. Colonel Harridan is set to give you a full report at 10:00. The 23rd Armored and 4th Mechanized just left for South Lanker Garrison, and we've activated the reserve equipment for training use. Also, we just received formal notice from command to increase readiness to NALCON Level 2. That's being implemented now."

"The alert level," said Tolmar. "I assume that's service-wide?"

"Yes, ma'am. All commands, all divisions."

Tolmar sighed. "...then it's happening."

"...Ma'am?"

"Nothing. Was that all?"

"There was one bulletin coming out of south Lanker. Let's see..." He called the file up on his notepad as they stepped into the base. "A Galbadian patrol was found murdered in the Timber woodlands area. The soldiers' tags and ID were taken, and all units in our division are accounted for."

Tolmar frowned. "Show me."

Dolsson handed her the report as they stepped into her office. Tolmar had spent the last few weeks in temporary offices such as this one, and this was probably the best-equipped yet. Sitting, she used the computer terminal to call up a second report, entering her clearance code to override the classification. Then she sighed; the missing team had been found very near the location of the DSRC team that had gone missing yesterday. "...Damn," she said.

"Ma'am?" asked Dolsson. "Is everything all right?"

"Don't ask unnecessary questions, Lieutenant," Tolmar admonished. Closing the file, she stood. "My first briefing is at ten hundred?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well." She hesitated a moment. "And lieutenant? See if you can't reach Lord-General Naraka or General Sarden. Inform them it's urgent."

Dolsson nodded. Instead of leaving right away, though, he stood fidgeting until Tolmar took notice.

"...Is there something else, Lieutenant?" she asked.

"Um..." He gulped. "If I may ask, ma'am...is there really going to be a war? I'm sorry, but there's all kinds of rumors, and..."

Tolmar sighed. She knew the look on his face well; during the war against Sorceress Adel, she hadn't been much older than he was now, and hadn't given her commander a much better performance. "Yes, there will," she said. "But don't let it concern you too much; just remember your training and focus on your duties. If all goes well, the war will stay a long distance away from here."

Dolsson saluted. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, and turned and left. Tolmar watched him go, then looked out the window at the cadets training outside, and wondered when the last war had been where everything went well.

- - **- — — -** - -

The convoy stretched back for more than a kilometer, filling the Lanker country road with a tremendous display of Galbadian military hardware. Armored personnel carriers and trucks led a procession of BGM-model tanks, spider-legged ATMs and flatbed carriers holding the latest Mobile Types. Quistis didn't think she had ever seen so much armor before, even during the invasion of Dollet.

The eight SeeDs had just crossed under the road where it bridged a shallow creek, and now took cover in the trees in case any of the passing Galbadians got too curious about them. They regrouped a hundred meters or so from the road, near one of the poles supporting power and HD cables; this particular pole had a box-like access port located at about shoulder-height.

"What the hell was that?" Zell wondered over the still-audible rumbling of the passing convoy. "Looks like Galbadia's movin' their whole army!"

"There were enough forces there to mount a full-scale invasion," Quistis agreed. "What could they possibly be doing with all of it?"

"I think that road goes into Timber," Paige ventured. "Maybe they're going to reoccupy it."

"With Iron Clads?" Jeck asked sardonically.

His tone notwithstanding, Quistis had been thinking the same thing. "That isn't an occupation force," she agreed. "Galbadia must be preparing for an attack. The question is who they mean to attack with it."

There was an uncomfortable silence. "...So what do we do?" asked Paige.

"...We can't do anything about that," Quistis said. "Let's try to put it out of mind for now, and do what we came to do."

"We should be able to interface here," said Nida, nodding to the access port. Quistis handed him the portable terminal they had taken from the Galbadian captain. "Just give me a minute."

They waited, the silence no less comfortable as the sound of the Galbadian force faded into the distance.

"...You don't think those Galbadians were going to attack Garden?" asked Zell. "I mean, 'cause of what we did back there?"

"Right," said Jeck. "_Now_ you're worried about that."

"Hey, you know what?" Zell started angrily.

"Be quiet!" snapped Quistis, sharply enough to surprise even herself. "Both of you. Whatever's going on, hopefully we'll know soon."

"I think I've got it," said Nida. "It's text-only, but I think I can access the SeeD BBS. Thing is, I'm a bit worried about the encryption."

Paige stepped forward. "Can I?" Nida stepped aside, and she tapped experimentally at the terminal for a bit. "...Here," she said finally, entering an instruction Quistis couldn't recognize. "It'll be okay if we don't stay connected longer than five minutes or so."

Now Quistis took the terminal, logging into Garden's online bulletin board for SeeDs on assignment. Her attention was immediately drawn to an announcement made just the previous night by a SeeD team in Dollet, which had now been flagged by Xu. She started to read the file – and gulped.

"...Oh, my." She quickly downloaded the file to the terminal's hard disk, checked for any other updates, and sent a private message to Xu going over their situation before disconnecting.

"What is it?" asked Selphie.

Quistis read over the file again before she answered. "...It's a Galbadian invasion plan. They're going to attack Esthar."

"_What_?" asked Jeck. "That's insane! Why the hell would they do that?"

"That's what the plan says," said Quistis. "I don't know why."

"Why was it on the SeeD BBS?" wondered Karenna. "I mean, are we supposed to assist?"

"SeeD isn't mentioned," Quistis said. "And there weren't any instructions included. It didn't seem like a normal assignment."

"Maybe we're supposed to stop it?" asked Selphie.

Jeck boggled. "Okay, _that_'s insane."

"Actually..." Quistis frowned. "...I think that might be it."

"Um," said Irvine. "I think I'm with Jeck on this one."

"Galbadia would go crazy," Nida agreed. "We'd be lucky if they didn't blow up Garden right then."

Quistis nodded. "I know. Still...I feel like that's what Xu wants."

"Right," said Jeck, shaking his head. "Just when I thought this mission couldn't get any more off the rails."

"Hey, guys?" Selphie broke in, pointing toward the road. "I think someone's coming."

Quistis looked in the direction she pointed, and thought she saw movement as well. "We'll check it out," she said, nodding to Selphie and Zell. "Everyone else, take cover."

The three SeeDs advanced back toward the road. Three other figures were just crossing, about fifty meters to the north. It didn't take long for Quistis to identify the newcomers; when she did, she nearly froze in her tracks from the surprise.

"Hey, I think I saw something just now," said Raijin. "Like there's still people around, ya know?"

"Treeline," Fujin agreed.

"All right," said Seifer, drawing his gunblade. "So let's check it out."

Taking a breath, Quistis stepped out into the open, holding out her arms to show she wasn't wielding a weapon at the moment. "Don't bother," she said. "Hello, Seifer."

Seifer just blinked at her for a moment; then understanding seemed to dawn on him. "Hey, Quistis. Let me guess — you're after Squall, right?"

Quistis frowned. "As a matter of fact, yes. What do you know about Squall?"

"Everything," he said. Then he grimaced. "Well...let's say enough."


	44. Commitments

"...and with any luck, we won't have to worry about that issue any longer."

Laguna himself couldn't remember how the sentence had started. In the air in front of him, the text of the speech Chan's staff had prepared for him was hovering in holographic letters that the cameras couldn't pick up. The text had been scrolling down for the last 52 minutes, and was nearing its end.

Absently, he fingered the wad of paper he had hidden under his formal president's robes. He never wore the robes except for formal functions; he had kept his hand in his pocket the entire time for fear he wouldn't be able to find it again.

"Esthar is still the most powerful, the most advanced, and the most dynamistic society in the world," he went on, trying to remember what Kiros had said about what "dynamistic" meant. Or whether it was actually a word. "Plus, we make a mean Torama-whisker stew." There was obligatory laughter. He almost felt Chan sigh from his seat beside Laguna's podium. Still, the chairman had long ago gotten used to Laguna's drop-in jokes, and learned to tolerate them.

"But, as always, we have to remember there are dangers, from other nations in the world" — _who resent us for our success and our freedom,_ the prompter read, but Laguna just couldn't bring himself to say that. "— who...rival us still...in these days, and...others," he finished. He'd definitely hear from Chan about _that_.

Or not. He was getting close to the big finish; the TV networks that were handling the live broadcast of the speech muted and subtitled most of it so they could fill the air time with commentary and instant-reaction panel discussions from people who _were_ listening to the speech; but they always carried the last couple of minutes, so as not to miss the applause at the end.

"When I became your president 17 years ago, I promised you an Esthar that would be rebuilt better than it was before the war, and the way to do that was to focus on ourselves and not challenge the rest of the world. And that approach has kept us out of war for all these years, even if we have come close."

That was the line. The networks would all be carrying this live by now, waiting for him to say something inspirational or just shut up so people could start clapping. He removed the paper from his pocket, trying to ignore the cramping in his leg, and stealthily unfolded it on the podium.

"...But we _have_ come close, haven't we?" he asked. "I don't need to remind any of you about that." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chan start to fidget. "After the Lunar Cry hit, there was talk about taking down the barrier and becoming part of the world again. Back then, I stood here and said we had to rebuild first. Well, we've rebuilt. And Galbadia's now challenging us again. Maybe the reason why is because they still see us as the Esthar from 17 years ago. I mean, what would it look like from their perspective? We try to take over the world and then just vanish? _I'd_ think that was pretty scary."

He'd now gone off even the script he had written; he glanced down to find his place. There was a low murmur rising from the delegates. "...Maybe it's time to try something different," he said. "Maybe if we weren't so secretive, Galbadia and everyone else wouldn't feel the need to challenge us. We've changed. That's why I'm proposing we establish relations with Galbadia, Dollet, Balamb, the Gardens...with everybody who has a stake in the world's future. This is a new Esthar, and we don't need to hide from the world anymore. Instead, we can help to lead it to a more peaceful future. Thank you all, long live Esthar, and long live the future!"

The applause was late in coming; Chan just stood there frozen. Laguna waved, grinning, and retreated as quickly as he could, trying desperately to avoid tripping over himself.

He was conscious for the first time in a while of how truly huge the assembly chamber was, as it took him about ten minutes just to get out of it, shaking hands with every representative who could get in his way for the photo-op. Usually it took him at least twice that long, but all the representatives were looking a bit shell-shocked and slow to shove their hands at him. Which was kind of nice, even if he kept half-expecting Chan to come running up and tackle him from behind.

Instead, when he finally reached the exit, the chairman was waiting for him. For a second, Laguna thought about turning and walking the other way, but Chan was between him and the only lift whose location he remembered.

"Mr. President," he said, "Do you have any idea what you've done?" For once, the chairman looked completely focused, which served as a good sign of how angry he was.

"Yeah," said Laguna. "Y'know, I checked the constitution. There's nothin' in it that says you've gotta approve what I say in my speeches."

"We are in the midst of a military showdown with Galbadia," said Chan. "You've just signaled a willingness to capitulate."

"What?" asked Laguna. "How does that work?"

"Galbadia will view your call for more openness as a sign of fear — especially since you framed it as a means to make them stop challenging us. We _want_ Galbadia to consider us a threat; that is the only way to deter hostility. You have undercut our entire defense strategy at a moment of crisis!"

Laguna's stomach twisted a bit. "...Look, I'll I'm saying is maybe there's a better way to keep the peace, you know? And if you'd been willing to consider that in the first place —"

"There is no better way," said Chan, voice low but dangerous. "And now there may be no way at all."

With that, he turned and walked off, expertly avoiding the gaggle of reporters who were descending on Laguna's position. Laguna stood there frozen until there was no way to do so himself.

"Mr. President!" called one reporter. "What effect do you think your proposal will have on the current situation with Galbadia?"

Laguna gulped, staring back at the cameras being jammed into his face. He felt as if he were going to faint.

"...Um," he said.

- - **- — — -** - -

Miranda hadn't slept at all since getting back from South Lanker, and it was beginning to catch up with her. She was standing in the office of the _Times_' editor-in-chief, swaying a bit on her feet and fidgeting even more than usual. Blake stood off to the side, arms folded and looking grim; the editor-in-chief herself, Maxine Sairn, was sitting behind her desk. The Frostwater file lay open in front of her.

"And you gave a copy of this to SeeD?" Sairn was saying.

"Yeah," said Miranda.

"Well," Sairn began slowly, "I suppose 'why' is the first question that comes to mind."

"It's how I got the tip about the SeeD ship the Galbadians were chasing down in Centra," said Miranda. "I think I can have that story for tomorrow. I've already got twenty centimeters on it, and —"

"Foster, you just gave us a Galbadian playbook for an invasion of Esthar!" Blake broke in. "One you think they're actually going through with; and you want us to run a story on some pirate ship that isn't?"

"Yeah, that's kind of weird," Miranda admitted. "...But no one else knows about the invasion yet, so it won't _look_ bad if we don't run it right away. Plus, I still think there's a connection between this ship and the NALCON."

"But you don't have that," said Blake. "All you've got is one SeeD who we'd have to keep anonymous and a lot of speculation."

"I'm gonna use the SeeD angle," said Miranda. "There are plenty of teams stationed here in Dollet, and I can talk to people from them this afternoon. It'll bring in the bigger picture of Galbadia's relationship with Garden."

"We've done four features on that just this year," said Blake.

"This is different!" Mrianda insisted.

"Yes, it is," said Sairn. "Because now this comes against the backdrop of the biggest military operation Galbadia's ever undertaken. Except our readers don't know that." She leaned forward, interlacing her fingers and resting them on the file. "And _why_ can't we tell them?"

"Well, our only source is that file," Miranda said. "And we're really not supposed to have that."

"Foster, it's a leaked document that's classified JC-5," Blake said; "of _course_ we're not supposed to have it."

"It's more than that," said Miranda. "I don't even know if I should've shown it to you — but look, we can use it to do more reporting, right? Get something firsthand, and then run _that_ as a story."

"There's something I haven't heard yet," said Sairn. "How do we know this information is reliable?"

Miranda blinked. "W...well, why would they leak us bad information if we couldn't use it anyway?"

"Miranda, I've been trying to find a way in which all of this _does_ make sense," Sairn said, "but it's not coming to me." She paused again. "Who did you get this from?"

"...I can't say." Miranda looked at the floor. "That was the deal; that's how I got it."

"Miranda, right now I'm not asking you to do a story on this; just to tell me."

"I know," said Miranda. "But I can't."

"Foster," said Blake, "there's taking initiative and then there's this. Now, what's going on that you're not telling us?"

Miranda shook her head. "Look, there's a pretty fair chance my source will know that Garden has the file, and they'll definitely trace that back to me! We can't print this anyway, so all that'll happen if you know is you'll be targets too!"

"Foster, we're your editors!" Blake exclaimed. "It's not your job to protect us. It's _our_ job to protect the paper!"

"That's what I'm trying to do!" said Miranda. "This is all happening because of me; the least I can do is fix it!"

"Miranda." Sairn looked about as exasperated as Blake, but her voice was much leveler. "We can handle any situation better if we know everything. That's what I'm asking for from you."

Miranda winced; she raised a hand to her head and was surprised to find tears welling in her eyes. "I—" she started, before taking a few more seconds to control herself. "I just...I can't."

Sairn leaned back in her chair and sighed. Then she stood. "All right, Miranda," she said, glancing at Blake. "...Take the rest of the day off; go home and get some rest."

"Uh...what?" asked Miranda, stunned. "I...No, we can still do the —"

"Don't worry about it," said Sairn. "We can manage everything."

Miranda felt considerably dizzier. "...Am I being fired?"

"No, Miranda," said Sairn; but Miranda caught a hint of 'not yet' in her voice. "Just go home for today."

After another moment that she needed to remember how to move her legs, Miranda turned to leave. "Um—" She stopped before reaching the door, however, and turned back around. "I'm s...I'm sorry about all this," she said, glancing at Blake.

She left. When she was gone, Blake and Sairn exchanged a look. "What do you think?" Sairn asked.

"I dunno about the story," said Blake. "But Foster's got to be the most driven person on staff. Looks like things finally caught up with her."

Sairn looked down at the Frostwater file. "Hyne help us all."

- - **- — — -** - -

Martine looked up from the after-action report that Tavin had typed up on the way back from South Lanker. "I'm hardly sure where to begin," he said.

"In my judgment, the mission constraints were insurmountable," said Tavin, the only one of the SeeDs who was standing. They were in Headmaster Martine's office; he was sitting behind his desk, and Palmer stood beside him. "The Galbadians wanted us to track down the target for them without knowing the target's true identity or situation. Once we learned too much, the Galbadians terminated our deployment."

"At which point Ms. Thorsen chose to share your grievances with the _Dollet Times_," said Palmer.

Keri gulped. "Ma'am, excuse me," she said, standing. "That wasn't Tavin's —"

"Please, Ms. Thorsen," said Palmer. "You'll have your turn to speak."

Keri sat.

"Keri was acting in response to a concerted effort by Galbadia to hamstring SeeDs out of doing their jobs," said Tavin. "I think it's understandable."

"It's entirely against protocol," said Palmer, "understandable or not."

"Clearly, Galbadia feels a need to keep SeeD at arm's length during its deployments," said Martine. "Nonetheless, they continue to fund Garden and contract SeeDs because we have a hard-earned reputation for success. That reputation has now been strained by this mission's failure."

"The mission wouldn't have been a failure if—"

"—if the Galbadians had provided you all the details," Palmer said. "That may be. But their refusal to do so was itself a sign of their mistrust, and that mistrust has now been reinforced."

"So we're supposed to succeed at an impossible mission?" asked Sean.

"Mr. Schier," Martine warned. "You will await your turn."

"If the mission were _not_ prohibitively difficult," said Palmer, "it would not call for SeeD. I instructed you at the outset to maintain Garden's integrity. I see little evidence that you have."

"That's not fair!" Keri said, springing to her feet again.

"None of this is fair," Palmer said cooly. "But it is so."

"All right," said Martine, standing. The other two SeeDs jumped to their feet as well. "We'll adjourn for now. You'll be debriefed one at a time, beginning in half an hour. Until then, you're dismissed."

Hesitantly, the SeeDs filed out of his office. Martine turned to look out the long window that looked out over the Garden grounds. Palmer paced a bit, hovering by the side of his desk.

"I don't think we can be too hard on them," said Martine. "If this mission wasn't set up to fail, it may as well have been."

"It gives the Galbadians a pretext for retaliatory action," said Palmer.

"Why would they need a pretext?" asked Martine. "I think it's what it looks like: they were so desperate to find the last SeeDs outside their influence that they pushed their influence with us further then they wanted to. Galbadia doesn't like being reminded that they've come to rely on us; it makes them suspicious, and they see conspiracies everywhere." He sighed. "In any event, if and when Galbadia retaliates, I doubt very much it will be because of this. At least not exclusively."

Palmer frowned. "Are you thinking about Frostwater?"

"If this causes us trouble, it's going to be there," said Martine. "Intentionally or not, the White SeeDs led Galbadia's fleet straight into Esthar's; the possibility of Garden and Esthar joining forces may be what sent Naraka over the edge. In any event, he certainly won't allow a variable as major as Garden to remain uncontained while he's fighting a war in Esthar."

Palmer was quiet for a moment, her expression having darkened considerably. "So in a way, those SeeDs did us a favor," she said. "At least we know for sure what's coming."

Martine nodded. "Recall everyone who's not under contract or being watched by Galbadia," he told her. "And send the junior classmen home."

"That'll violate the Galbadians' curfew order," said Palmer.

"At this point, I don't think it matters," said Martine.

Palmer sighed. "...I'll get started right away," she said, hesitating for just a moment. "...Hyne help us."

She stepped out into the reception room, leaving Martine to look down over the campus and wonder how many more times he would be able to see the sight.


	45. Night

It was a warm summer night, and there wasn't much need for a campfire except to cook dinner; but once they had gone to the trouble of finding a spot that would be concealed from the rest of the woods, no one could quite bear to douse it. Selphie had essentially taken charge of tending it, and continued to toss dry leaves and twigs on as the others faded off, to sleep or just be elsewhere.

Irvine and Nida were eventually the only two left with her; both were staring at the flames as they consumed whatever scraps of fuel they could find. Irvine wondered at how some logs managed to keep seemingly unscathed by the flames all around them, even as others were turned to unrecognizable ash. He wasn't sure why, but the thought seemed to make his mood even gloomier.

It was a dark, moonless night, and with the fire concealed, they couldn't see anything beyond the little triangle they formed. So on top of everything else, it felt lonely.

"...It's not fair," said Selphie. "We're camping out in the woods, it's a nice summer night. This should be fun." She hugged her own legs, resting her chin on her knees. "Back in Trabia, a bunch of us used to go up into the mountains and make a huge fire. Then we'd all gather around it and tell adventure stories."

"We'd always have a bonfire down by the beach," said Nida. "On the last day of the Garden Festival. There'd be fireworks over the ocean."

"Never had anything like that at G-Garden," said Irvine. "I mean, people went camping in the woods all the time, but..." He trailed off. "I was more for the bluffs, you know?

There was a pause. "...Squall was like that," Nida said. "He'd usually be hanging around the Festival while it was going on, but at the end, for the fireworks, he was always one of the ones went up in the mountains, to watch them from there."

The fire gave off a popping noise, and a small cluster of embers floated upwards. The three lapsed into silence again for a while.

"What do you think'll happen if we find Squall?" asked Selphie. "I mean, I wanna help, but...I'm kinda scared, too."

"About Rinoa?" Irvine asked.

"...Kinda," Selphie admitted. "But if Galbadia's really gonna attack, shouldn't we do something about that? I mean, Sir Laguna and all those people in Esthar...they probably don't even know yet."

Irvine hesitated. "Well...I guess _I'm_ scared about Rinoa. I mean, I know something else has to be going on here, but I can't get that hospital out of my head." Selphie nodded sadly. "Still, I mean...they're our friends. How do we just walk away from that?"

"We might have to think about Garden, too," said Nida. "I mean, the Galbadians are going to find out what we did, sooner or later. When they do, they'll probably take it out on Xu and everyone else. If we could help Esthar win this war, it might help Garden as well." He shook his head. "I don't know how we'd do that either, though."

Irvine laughed halfheartedly. "Great choice we've got. Either way, we have no clue what to do."

The fire crackled again. "...It's not like it is in the stories," Selphie said. "People always make the adventure sound really fun, you know? Like, all glamorous and exciting. I wonder why they do that."

No one offered an answer.

–

Seifer was sitting with his back against a tree; he looked at once comfortable, restless and tired. Quistis wasn't quite sure how he managed it.

It had been a year since she had seen him, and the time hadn't been particularly kind. His hair was shaggier, like he'd last cut it himself, and it looked as if he hadn't shaved in a while either. His coat was battered and stained almost beyond recognition, and the gunblade he was sharpening was covered in nicks and scratches. The Seifer she had known would never tolerate such an appearance; but that Seifer hadn't survived the Sorceress War.

"How long have you been out here?" she asked him. "Was it ever since the Lunatic Pandora?"

"Pretty much," Seifer said, without looking at her.

"All the time Rinoa's been fighting Galbadia?" she asked. Seifer didn't answer, flipping his gunblade over and starting to sharpen the other side. "Did she know you were out here?" Still no answer. "...Did Squall?"

At that, he looked up at her. She could only see the edges of his face in the minimal light coming from the distant campfire, but she got what she needed to.

"He never talked about Rinoa," she said. "We never knew what was going on. I'm only a little surprised he trusted you, though."

Now Seifer was glaring. "It wasn't his idea."

Quistis smiled. "I never said I thought it was."

Seifer returned his attention to his gunblade.

"...Seifer," Quistis began. "I just want..." She hesitated. "...No, I think I know why you did everything." He glared at her again. "I guess I just want to know what it felt like."

Seifer didn't answer for long enough that she thought he wouldn't. "Like the biggest high you can imagine," he said finally. "Then like coming down from it." He set the gunblade down and leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on his knee. You think there's nothing you want more in the universe, and you'll do anything to get it back, or to stop it getting taken away. And yeah, that's how Squall feels about Rinoa."

Quistis nodded. "And how do _you_ feel?"

After a moment, Seifer leaned back against the tree, lowering his eyes and looking even wearier than ever. That gave Quistis all the answer she needed.

"...You're going to disappear again, aren't you?" she asked. "Like on the Lunatic Pandora, after you gave Rinoa to Adel. Find someplace new to hide, some new obsession to fall back on? What sort of life is that going to be?"

Seifer snorted weakly. "Still trying to save me, Instructor? I could've figured you wouldn't be able to handle being just a regular SeeD."

Quistis sighed. "Seifer..."

"And now you're chasing Squall halfway across the planet after he beat the hell out of you to get away. That's self-respect for you. Seriously, though, it's getting a little pathetic."

There was a moment's silence as his words sank in. Then, surprising herself as much as Seifer, Quistis broke down laughing.

"...What the hell?" Seifer demanded.

It took another few seconds for Quistis to get herself under control. "I missed you, Seifer," she said. "I really have." Recovering, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her crossed legs and resting her chin on her hands. "...Seifer, you were right. I _was_ just a mediocre instructor. I tried to be someone I wasn't for the better part of my life, until I didn't even remember who or why. But that's over now. I'm not Sis, and I'm not going to try to hold your hand. But I know something about obsessing over goals we can't attain." She shrugged. "And I know _you_. Just try to tell me you're ever going to be happy like this."

Seifer looked away again. "I'm kind of Public Enemy No. 1 in...you know, everywhere. You gonna show me a better way?"

"Do you want me to?" Quistis asked. Seifer frowned at her, and she raised her eyebrows. "Tell you what. I'll give you some advice, for old times' sake. I won't deny it's risky, and you can ignore it if you want. But I think you just might find it worth your time."

Silence held for a time, as Seifer stared at Quistis with one of his more unreadable expressions — a mild chocobo-in-the-headlights look, she thought — and she looked back at him, patiently waiting.

"...You're gonna keep chasing Squall though, right?" he asked.

She blinked at the change of subject. "We've come this far."

"Oh, that sounds familiar." Seifer rested his arms on the ground on either side of him, and took a deep breath. "Tell you what. I'll take whatever your advice is if you do this." Quistis frowned at him. "Forget about Squall."

Quistis blinked. "...What?"

"You can't help him," Seifer said. "Not if he doesn't want you to. And where he's going, you don't want to follow him."

"What about Rinoa?" Quistis asked.

A shadow passed over Seifer's face. "Nothing you can do."

The campfire was finally doused, and more literal shadows completely enveloped them. Quistis sighed, glancing up at the stars winking in and out behind invisible clouds.

"If it was _really_ over," Seifer said, "if you _really_ were done being Sis and trying to hold the orphanage gang all together...you'd know all this already. You just don't want to think about it."

Slowly, Quistis nodded, not speaking and wondering if he saw. The hiss of the dying fire faded away, leaving a still and quiet dark.

"So?" he asked. "What's your advice?"

- - **- — — -** - -

Thick curtains covered the windows of Naraka's office, and the dozen lamps filled the room with a brilliant glare, as if to compensate for the blackness outside. Naraka was going over one of the reports before him for the fourth or fifth time; there wasn't any file on the desk that he hadn't read at least twice.

The files themselves weren't really the point. Sometimes he'd pick up a detail he'd missed before, but mostly it helped him understand how every element of the operations came together; the most frustrating aspect of the plan was that its scale precluded his direct involvement in it, meaning he had to rely on his subordinates to oversee many aspects of its execution. And since the most capable of his generals had already shown herself to be unreliable, this was a particularly difficult situation for him to tolerate.

The door to his reception room slid open, and Janis stepped halfway into the room. "Mr. President?" he asked. "General Sarden to see you."

"Finally," Naraka said, without looking up. "Do we have anything more concerning the president's address in Esthar?"

"Ah, yes, sir. It's been all over the news there."

"I want his precise words," said Naraka.

"We have excerpts. Apparently the relevant portions were all in a small section at the end of the speech. There's talk it was a last-minute modification."

Naraka looked up at that. "And he did name Garden specifically?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"As I thought, then. Show in General Sarden." Janis did so, and stepped out himself. "Esthar's president is sending us a warning, General. If we don't adopt a more conciliatory tone, he means to support Garden against us."

"I take it you don't accept Intelligence's view of a split between Parliament and the president over this?" asked Sarden.

"Deception meant to confuse our response," said Naraka dismissively. "Of course, they don't know that the entire exercise is pointless, and our response is already underway." He closed the file he had been reading and fixed Sarden with his full attention for the first time. "And speaking of Garden, have you managed to revise your deployment plan _yet_?"

"Yes," said Sarden. "Though it's undergoing revision. The unit commanders are concerned, as Frostwater wasn't originally planned to accommodate three additional offensives on short notice. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"And your timetable?" asked Naraka.

"...That's still being determined," said Sarden slowly. "Trabia is a difficulty, as we don't have any ground units in the area, and we're still collecting units for Galbadia Garden to fill the gap left by the 3rd and 26th, which will take —"

"What?" Naraka snapped. "You removed the units enforcing the lockdown on Galbadia Garden?"

"Their use was called for in the Frostwater plan," said Sarden. "I assumed your approval of that deployment superseded the Garden directive."

"You _assumed_ that I intended to grant Garden _more_ autonomy on the eve of this operation?" demanded Naraka. Sarden's confused expression said that this was precisely so. "General, I place a high premium on loyalty, but I have no small respect for competence as well. I suggest you bear that in mind."

"...Of course," said Sarden. "In any event, we should be in good shape if we move on the others tomorrow afternoon. I'll have a more definite report for you in the morning."

"Make it happen, General," said Naraka. "I don't want SeeD finding a way to interfere with our plans."

"Of course," said Sarden. "...Lord-General, before I forget..." He hesitated. "I should preface this by saying my judgment was not to trouble you with this matter, but General Tolmar insisted it was of importance."

"Tolmar?" asked Naraka. Janis had informed him that she had been attempting to reach him throughout the day, but he'd been occupied with matters of more immediate importance.

"Yes, Lord-General. She attempted to contact me repeatedly. Apparently there was an incident where a team of Galbadian soldiers was discovered murdered in the Lanker area. But no units were reported missing there."

"It's an oddity," said Naraka. "But I don't see the relevance."

"Nor do I," said Sarden. "However, General Tolmar made mention of a search contingent dispatched from the DSRC —"

The possibility had dawned on Naraka while Sarden was speaking; he rose from his desk, hands shaking. "JANIS!"

His aide quickly appeared at the door. "Mr. P—"

"Contact Administrator Derrick at the DSRC _immediately_, and inform him that if his search teams are not _entirely_ accounted for, there will be hell to pay! _Especially_ if he failed to report the SeeDs' loss in a timely manner!" Janis nodded, and disappeared. "General, you are to place all units in the Lanker area on alert that there are now _nine_ rogue SeeDs in the area, who are to be interdicted at all costs."

Sarden frowned. "Lord-General, I'm not sure I —"

"You don't _need_ to understand; simply _do_ it," snapped Naraka. "And I want to have Garden dealt with _now_, not tomorrow afternoon or at any other leisurely pace! Is that clear?"

"I'll need to speak with the commanders," said Sarden. "The plans will need to be revised again for —"

"You are _dismissed_, General," said Naraka. "If SeeD is still functioning by tomorrow morning, I will view your performance _very_ unfavorably."

Though he looked as if he still didn't quite understand, Sarden saluted and left. Naraka turned back to his desk, all the meticulously detailed files and plans that would need to be revised again.

He struck out at the files, sending several of them flying across the room. Garden and Esthar – he'd been sure he could contain them, and then that he was a step ahead of them, but how deep did their plot really go? All the SeeDs on the continent, ostensibly working for Galbadia, stationed at strategic points, could form a perfect fifth column at a simple, unknown order. And an entire Garden on Galbadian soil – how could he have been so foolish as to allow it for so long?

It would all end the next day. Garden would fall; then Esthar would fall, and none would dare challenge Galbadia afterward. His plan was intricately arranged, and it could still succeed.

Naraka ripped open the curtains to look out the window. All the light from within the room washed out all the detail, but he could still catch the brightest nighttime lights of Galbadia's capital, the city and the country to which he had dedicated his life and all his energy.

The plan _would_ succeed.

It had to.


	46. Hammer

**June 14**

"Hi."

Miranda started. She had been sitting in the Mimmett Avenue diner for about fifteen minutes, and had spent the last five or so poking the uneaten egg salad that theoretically was to be her breakfast.

"—Hi, Linnis," she replied. "Sorry; I'd completely spaced off. Have a seat."

"Thanks," said Linnis, sitting. She was wearing casual clothes — a loose button-up T-shirt in mottled browns over a pink tank top, and brown pants that went with the shirt — and had the casual demeanor that Miranda had observed in most SeeDs, all of which made her nearly indistinguishable from the diner's other patrons. Still, her expression easily gave away that something was weighing heavily on her, as it nearly mirrored Miranda's own.

"...Do you want this?" asked Miranda, gesturing at her uneaten salad. "They have terrific eggs here, and I ordered before I figured out I'm not really hungry."

Linnis shook her head politely. "Thanks, but I already ate."

Miranda nodded. "Well, then," she said, then trailed off. "...Hyne, I'm sorry. This never happens, but...I don't know what to say."

"You said you might want me as a source for a story," Linnis prodded.

"Yeah; that might not be happening." Miranda shook her head. "Did you get that file to Garden okay?"

"Yeah," Linnis confirmed. "Xu said to thank you for your help, and just say if you need anything."

Miranda smiled, intendedly polite but mostly wan. "...That's the problem. I definitely need something; I just don't know what. Or...maybe it's that I do, but there's no getting it."

"Are you under pressure from Galbadia?" asked Linnis.

"I can't even tell my editors where I got the file from," Miranda said. "We can't cite it in any story. And that's the only source we've got. To say nothing of the G-men would probably shut us down for a story like this no matter what or who our source was."

Linnis raised her eyebrows. "I've done investigations before," she said, "but that sounds pretty crazy."

"I'm just figuring that out myself," said Miranda. "'Why the hell should we let the government's threats make us muzzle ourselves?' That was me, a week ago. Drove my editor crazy. Now —" She spread her hands in resignation.

"What changed?" asked Linnis.

"It's different when you're sitting across the table from someone who threatens to destroy everyone you ever met," said Miranda. Then she laughed, weakly. "This is pathetic; I'd meant to be interviewing _you_ right now. For a story they probably won't let me write."

The corner of Linnis' mouth twitched. "How long have you wanted to be a reporter?"

"Since I was nine," said Miranda. "I know exactly what did it, too. I mean, I grew up reading Annie Patton mysteries, that kind of thing; but there was this one story about Julia Caraway — you know, the singer who did 'Eyes On Me'?"

Linnis nodded. "She died, right? After marrying some general?"

"Yeah," said Miranda. "It was one of the ones right after she died, and it was, you know, a huge celebrity death deal. But what really got me about it was the story." Miranda's eyes started to drift, looking over Linnis' shoulder at nothing in particular. "Her story, I mean. I just...had no idea that real people actually had lives like that. And it really brought home, like..." She hesitated. "You see things every day, and you don't think about how they're connected; they're just...there. But everything has something to do with something. And I've always loved connecting the dots. Makes the world feel...more accessible, somehow." She shrugged. "Why'd you want to be as SeeD?"

"War orphan," Linnis said. "Don't remember too much of my childhood, but...Garden was everything I had. I wanted to help protect it. It's all I really know _how_ to do."

Miranda placed her hands on the table in front of her, and rested her chin on them. "I know the feeling," she said exhaustedly.

It took them a second to notice the two men in Galbadian uniforms who had entered the diner. Both made a beeline for their table.

"Linnis Cochran?" asked one.

"Yes?" confirmed Linnis warily.

"Please come with us," he said.

Linnis frowned; she and Miranda glanced at each other. "Can I ask why?"

"Not authorized to tell you that, ma'am," said the soldier.

"Then I'm not going anywhere," said Linnis. "What is going on?"

"We said _get up_!" The second soldier grabbed for Linnis' shirt; Linnis caught and twisted his arm, sending him to the floor on his back. He crashed into the table on the way down; it flipped over, and Miranda's breakfast ended up splattered over his breastplate. Miranda yelped and jumped backwards, and many other patrons made for the exit.

A second later, the first soldier had his saber drawn; Linnis' hands were hovering by the twin revolvers at her waist; but she didn't draw.

"Surrender your weapons," said the still-standing soldier, as his counterpart disentangled himself from the overturned table. "You're to be taken into custody. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

Miranda saw additional Galbadian soldiers outside, closing in. Linnis did, too. Slowly, she nodded. "...All right," she said, and slowly removed the holsters from her waist and handed them over.

"And your GF," said the soldier. The second one had regained his footing, and held out a metal cylinder about the size of his forearm. Its casing was in two halves, which split open to show its center was crystal. Miranda blinked; she hadn't realized the Galbadians had access to that sort of technology.

Linnis sighed, and closed her eyes; there was a brief flash of light, and the crystal began to glow. The soldier checked the display panel, nodded, and snapped the cylinder closed.

"We've got the last one," the Galbadian said into his radio; and they escorted Linnis out. As she was leaving, she flashed Miranda a look, and her otherwise neutral expression for a second spoke to layers of worry and fear that made Miranda's stomach knot.

As soon as the Galbadians were gone, Miranda grabbed her shoulder-bag and retrieved her radiophone, dialing reflexively. "Blake?" she asked. "I know I'm supposed to be at home and taking it easy or whatever, but...I think I've got a new story for you."

- - **- — — -** - -

Though she hadn't gotten to sleep until well after midnight, Quistis had awakened before dawn. Even so, Seifer, Fujin and Raijin were gone when she did. She hadn't expected anything different, really.

Zell and Paige had been standing watch, with everyone else still asleep. A good deal of pacing and brooding on her part had dominated the following hours, until the rest of the team had awakened and consumed the Galbadian ration packages that now constituted their breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Then she had gathered everyone together.

"All right," she said. "We need to make a choice. Right now, we don't know where Squall and Rinoa are, or which way they're headed. And now we're on the run from the Galbadians ourselves."

"Wasn't that the plan?" asked Irvine.

Quistis nodded. "Well, now it seems like we have another situation," she said. "A war between Galbadia and Esthar can only be devastating. Given that Galbadia is clearly distrustful of SeeD — and by our own actions, we've given them more reason to be — it's doubtful that Garden would survive such a conflict for long."

"What are we supposed to do about it, though?" asked Karenna. "I mean, if this is some huge operation...there's only eight of us."

"Obviously we can't stop the attack from happening," said Quistis. "Not entirely. But I've been reading over the outline of the Galbadian attack plan. They don't have enough forces to defeat Esthar head-on, so they're depending on the element of surprise. In addition, they're going to use long-range missiles to soften up Esthar's defenses."

"That sounds familiar," said Nida.

"Wait a minute," said Selphie. "I kinda remember blowing up that missile base."

"Yes," Quistis agreed. "And they haven't rebuilt it yet, although the plan calls for its use. But apparently the Galbadians have been developing a system to let them launch missiles from ships."

That news caught everyone by surprise. "Ships?" asked Jeck.

"Man," said Zell. "That's...pretty cool."

"It's gonna be _way_ harder to blow up a bunch of ships," said Selphie.

"We might have a chance," said Quistis. "The outline includes which port the ships are based at. They might still be there." She took a breath. "There's no guarantee, of course; and even if the ships are there, we may not be able to do anything. And if we try, we'll probably lose any chance of catching up with Squall."

Everyone was silent for a time, looking as if they were waiting for someone else to speak up. "...I think we should do it," Nida said hesitantly. Still, no one else spoke; Nida looked around for any sign that someone had heard him.

"We should make the decision now," Quistis said. "Since neither option is sanctioned by Garden, I won't make it an order. I want us all to be in agreement."

"It doesn't really feel right to abandon Squall and Rinoa," said Selphie. "I mean, I know Squall ran away from us, but we've never given up on him before."

"Well, maybe bringing Galbadia down a peg or two could help too," said Irvine. "If we get them off Garden's back, he'd at least have a place to go."

"I don't like the idea of Galbadia shootin' up Esthar," said Zell. "An' suppose they're doin' it because of us? Like, 'cause they know we've got connections with Laguna or something. We kinda owe it to Esthar to help."

Jeck groaned. "Okay, running after Squall was pretty crazy, but this is like a whole new level."

"Figures you'd say that," muttered Zell.

"Hey, shut up!" snapped Jeck. "Even assuming we can actually do anything, this is like declaring war on Galbadia on behalf of Garden. That's gonna _help_?"

"He's got a point," said Karenna, less confrontationally. "Even if we can stop Galbadia from beating Esthar, they could still retaliate against Garden."

"I think they'll do that anyway," said Quistis. "I'd be amazed if they allowed an institution as powerful as Garden to stand in the midst of an open war."

"That still doesn't answer the question of how we're supposed to stop all the missiles from firing," said Jeck. "I mean —"

"Hang on," said Karenna; she was looking at the one SeeD who hadn't spoken yet, and who now had a somewhat distant look. "Paige, what do you think?"

"What?" Paige shook her head. "I...I mean..."

"It's all right," said Quistis. "Just say what's on your mind."

Paige sighed. "...Well, I guess it's what you said just now. I mean, this is just my first mission, and besides that all I know is from hearing you guys talk, or people back at Garden...but lately, Garden doesn't seem like it's powerful at all. It's always how our contract prevents this, or our finances make things a certain way. And it's always how we can't do anything Galbadia wouldn't like. Like they've taken over Garden, and we didn't even fight. So...I guess I don't want to let them get away with it."

Most of the others were nodding. "...Well," said Karenna, "when you put it _that_ way...I guess I'm with you."

"Maybe it's a question of do we go down with a bang or a whisper," said Irvine. "I'd go for the bang."

"Me too," said Selphie.

"Yeah!" Zell exclaimed; his enthusiasm seemed just a tad bit forced, but Quistis welcomed it anyway. "Let's show these Galbadian bastards why you don't mess with SeeD!"

Then everyone looked at Jeck. "So, still no one's said how we're supposed to _do_ this," he said.

"So we'll figure it out," said Karenna.

"Yeah," Irvine agreed. "Come on, man. Your chance to be the big hero."

Jeck didn't look remotely enthused, but eventually raised his hands in resignation. "All right," he said. "But I'm totally gonna say 'I told you so' if this whole thing blows up."

"Hey, '_when_ it blows up,' okay?" Zell corrected. "...Wait a minute." That prompted a quickly suppressed round of chuckling among the SeeDs.

"...The base in question is on the eastern Monterosa shore," Quistis said, trying to get things back on track. "The best way to reach it is probably to go through Dollet. Let's get ready to move out."

The SeeDs set about striking their campsite and collecting their gear. Nida hovered by Quistis for a moment longer. "You know, I kind of figured you'd want to keep after Squall," he said.

"I do want to," she said. Selphie and Irvine were still nearby as well; Selphie especially looked like she still wanted some assurance that they were making the right decision. "But there's a point when you have to let things go."

- - **- — — -** - -

Keri was usually up before dawn, but today light was already streaming through the blinds of her dorm window when she rolled out of bed. Feeling like she wouldn't mind just crawling back under the covers and sleeping for an indeterminate amount of additional time, she instead stumbled into the shower.

After she had changed into her Garden fatigues and brushed her hair, she flopped onto her couch with the copy of _Relics Monthly_ that lay nearby, until she remembered that she'd already read this one from cover to cover. Sighing, she pulled on her shoes and headed out, hoping the cafeteria would still be serving breakfast.

The hall was completely empty, but since the spring term was over and people knew better than to loiter in the halls anyway, this wasn't too surprising. Keri couldn't shake the feeling, though, that there was something eerie about the silence that she couldn't quite place.

The intercom echoed through the hall as she was approaching the lift. _"Blue team to the West Entrance!"_ commanded a harried-sounding voice. Keri blinked, but the intercom cut off without further explanation.

Keri reached the lift and pressed the down arrow, puzzling over the cryptic announcement. All students and graduates at the Garden were divided into teams, which were reorganized with each semester, whether they were taking classes or simply residing there. Students in the same team were usually put in classes together, particularly the combat courses. They also determined which side students were on in the wargames that ended each semester, but she couldn't think of any reason why...

Then she saw that the status light on the lift's call panel was flashing red, and everything fell into place. She turned and sprinted back toward her dorm room.

Even though she had just put away all her gear the previous night, it still took her a second to remember where she had stored it. First she retrieved the meter-long box that was mounted on her wall, which had her name engraved on its face along with the Garden logo. There was a dull booming noise outside, and she felt a reverberation that seemed to stop her heart for a second. Her throat had become very dry.

She removed the saber and pistol she had received upon graduation and never used so far, fumbling to fasten them onto her belt. As she was retrieving the two crystal-ribbed bracers that contained all the magic she'd been issued, she went over to the dorm window and adjusted the blinds to peer out. She already had a good idea what to expect, but that didn't prepare her to actually see it.

A group of G-SeeDs in full combat gear were charging out from the entrance, toward a mass of troops in blue and red, backed by armored personnel carriers, who were circling around from the south. Magic bolts were shooting towards the Galbadians, and she could see the telltale flashes of gunfire in return. Bodies were already starting to fall.

Remembering her gear, Keri adjusted her second junction sleeve, grabbed the waist-pouch that held what healing items she had plus extra ammunition for her pistol, and ran out the door, locking it this time. She ran in the opposite direction down the hall to the emergency stairs, and practically bounded down them to the ground floor.

She heard the shooting just in time to stop herself from bounding out the door as it slid open; instead she slammed her back against the wall and drew her pistol. A Galbadian Elite Soldier had been charging at someone who was lying against the wall just outside her range of vision, but now spun around to face her. Reflexively, Keri raised her pistol and fired three times – striking him twice in the stomach and once in the neck; he fell before he could get off a shot. It took her another second to consciously realize that this was the first man she had ever killed.

After a second of taking that in, she checked to make sure she was out of danger for the moment and stepped out of the stairwell to check the Galbadian's original target. It was Mara; she was swallowing a Potion and coughing, clutching the wound at her side as the blue glow surrounded it.

"You okay?" Keri offered her a hand, which she took.

"Oh, yeah," said Mara, shaking herself off and coughing again for good measure. "I had everything under control."

"What's going on?" Keri asked. "Why's Galbadia attacking?"

"Didn't say," said Mara. "But they seem pretty pissed off."

Keri was reasonably certain that their mission was at least partly the reason why. She was pretty sure Mara was thinking this too, but neither of them mentioned it. "Where should we go?" she asked.

"Athletic track," said Mara. "They've breached the main entrance, but we're trying to herd them in there, then divide them from the guys still outside." She frowned. "Why? Did you lose your radio?"

Keri winced, realizing she had left it in her dorm room. "—Sort of," she said. "Uh, let's go."

Mara drew her saber, and they set off down the hall.


	47. Fury

So far, Tolmar's second day at East Academy wasn't much more impressive than her first. The students had been organized for field exercises, which the base's regular command staff were monitoring. Per her instructions, she should be out monitoring their monitoring, although all evidence she'd seen to date was that the facility was being very capably run.

But as it happened, a thoroughly unnecessary call from her replacement at the Joint Command office was distracting her from her thoroughly unnecessary duties.

"_General, the next time you have important information to share,"_ General Sarden was saying, _"I would appreciate your warnings to be a bit less cryptic."_

"I had no choice in the matter," said Tolmar. "I couldn't seem to reach you directly, and neither of our staffs are currently cleared to handle material with this level of classification."

"_Even so,"_ Sarden said. _"Had I been given a clearer sense of the nature of the situation, Lord-General Naraka could have been appraised in a much more timely manner."_

"I did say the situation was urgent," she told him. "That's not a term I tend to use lightly. And I for one find it bothersome that you didn't treat my warning with corresponding urgency."

Sarden frowned. _"Excuse me?"_

Tolmar wasn't interested in letting up. "I understand you're miffed over seeming the fool before the Lord-General. But if you think you're going to keep my job, then you'd best focus less on shouldering me out and more on doing the job."

"_General..."_ Sarden sounded even more miffed than he had at the start of the conversation, and was trying to cover it up by sounding threatening. _"I would be very careful what you insinuate with me."_

"I'm not insinuating a thing, General," said Tolmar. "Address your duties seriously, and don't call me to complain when you fail to."

Sarden didn't seem to be getting the message. _"The issue here —"_

Tolmar was tremendously relieved when Lieutenant Dolsson hurried into her office, until she saw the expression on his face. "What is it?" she asked, muting the phone.

"Ma'am, our southern perimeter's been breached," he said, as a pair of soldiers stepped in, one immediately closing the blinds. "We have men down."

Frowning, Tolmar nodded and un-muted the phone. "General, I have to go; we're under attack." Hanging up, she followed Dolsson out of the office. "What's happening?"

"Don't know, ma'am," he said. "We thought it was random fire from the exercise at first. We've only confirmed one attacker, maybe two."

"Two?" asked Tolmar. They had reached the main command center, where the tone was becoming palpably frantic. "We have two dozen soldiers in that sector, plus more than a hundred armed cadets with magic. Why is this even a problem?"

"General, we've already lost contact with half our people in the south sector," said the officer-at-station, Major Lant. "We've just now got the cadets redeployed for base defense. These guys hit us _fast_."

"Sir?" called one of the staffers at a master situation panel. "We've now got a Perimeter One alert."

"What?" Lant demanded. "How the hell did they get inside the Two line?"

"2-B's off radio; we just now caught it." The staffer's eyes jumped from one display to another. "They're moving _incredibly_ fast; we can't even track them."

"This is one hell of a hit," said Lant. "There's no infiltration; they're coming straight in, and taking us to pieces. Who the hell could pull off something like this?"

Dolsson had a scared expression that Tolmar hoped he'd learn to cover up soon. "...SeeD?" he asked.

Then all the monitors went to static, and a screeching noise came out of all the staffer's headsets. The lights flickered, and everyone looked around in confusion.

"No," Tolmar said. "This is worse."

Then there was a tremendous groaning noise, and debris came flying through the door to one of the base conference rooms. "— Defensive positions!" shouted Lant, and the soldiers rushed to cover the room.

"General, we need to move you to the secure command post," said Dolsson.

"No time for that," said Tolmar, drawing her revolver.

"But ma'am—" Dolsson was cut off by what sounded like a lightning strike coming from within the conference room. It was followed by an explosion, aborted gunfire, and a screech that Tolmar wasn't sure she wanted to identify. Then silence.

"Take a position," Tolmar said, raising her pistol towards the conference room door. Dolsson did as he was told.

For another few seconds, there was no sign of motion. Then a shadow appeared at the doorway, and advanced into the hall. Trailing the shadow, walking at a sedate, even trancelike pace, was a single young woman who couldn't be older than eighteen, clad entirely in black.

Indeed, Tolmar knew exactly how old she was — and exactly who she was, having both met her briefly and seen her face on Galbadia's most-wanted list for more than a year running. "Sorceress Rinoa," she muttered.

"Don't move!" called Lant. She looked at him unconcernedly, and raised a hand in his direction. And the soldiers opened fire.

Tolmar herself fired only once, as she saw the bullets glancing off a barrier just in front of the Sorceress' hand. The others kept trying for several more seconds, until they started running out of ammunition. The Sorceress stood perfectly still, arm outstretched with palm outward in a blocking gesture.

The soldiers hesitated a second before reloading, a little dazed by her stolidity. At around that point, she flicked her hand in a simple circular motion, and a sunburst of energy leaped outward, snaking from one of them to the next and burning their bodies straight through. Lant was the only one to get off a shot from his new clip before the magic incinerated him.

"—Protect the General!" shouted Dolsson, drawing his saber. Most of the soldiers were already dead; the technicians bore only sidearms. He and the two remaining infantrymen charged the Sorceress, and a bolt of magic struck one soldier down before he could even reach her. Dolsson brought his saber down hard, aiming at the Sorceress' forehead, but the weapon stopped above by her right hand, which moved more quickly than the eye could follow. Suddenly the blade was wobbling in the air, and then went flying from his hand. As the second soldier attempted to run the Sorceress through, Dolsson's blade spun around and embedded itself in his chest, with no mind for the armor.

A horrified Dolsson grabbed for his sidearm, but the Sorceress thrust out her hand and he flew backwards to bang his head against a doorframe some six meters away. Tolmar heard a wet crack, saw him land with his neck at an unnatural angle, and knew he wouldn't be getting back up.

Hiding, she gathered, wouldn't do her much good, so she stood and fired her pistol straight at the Sorceress' head. The handful of remaining staffers began shooting as well. It didn't matter.

There was a flash of light, and a massive concussion emanated from Tolmar and the staffers' midst. Some of them were slammed hard against nearby consoles or chairs; Tolmar had the honor of being thrown over an entire bank of consoles, landing on a desk behind it and rolling off to the floor. She didn't know exactly when she lost her gun, and when she came to rest it was the most she could do merely to keep her eyes focused.

She saw a blurry form rounding the console bank, and kneeling down over her. "You'll pay," the Sorceress said; as she spoke, her entire calm demeanor seemed to fracture, and she drew back from Tolmar with a surprised expression.

It didn't last long, though. She raised her hand, and Tolmar was thrown backward again. She felt herself slam against the wall, her vision blurred even further, and her eyes were drifting closed despite themselves.

She thought she saw the Sorceress advancing on her again, arm outstretched — holding her, choking her despite not touching her. Then she thought she saw another figure appearing behind the Sorceress, and heard a male voice shouting a name.

Then she didn't think about anything.

–

"Rinoa!" Squall shouted, skidding to a halt behind her. He'd been running flat-out for what felt like the last hour trying to catch up with her, stopping only to fight his way past the two or three guards who weren't already lying lifeless on the ground. Now he couldn't quite believe he'd managed to catch up.

Rinoa had the Galbadian general pinned to a wall, with her hand hovering at the general's throat as if ready to rip it out. Squall couldn't tell if the Galbadian was unconscious or dead. Rinoa, for her part, looked completely unharmed, though this didn't stop Squall's heart from pounding.

"Rinoa, what are you doing?" he asked. "What's the meaning of all this?"

She seemed still to be ignoring him, staring at the general as if he wasn't there. But Squall had a feeling she was listening, just by not doing anything else.

Then she looked back at him. Her expression was distant, but quizzical and very familiar. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "I'm fighting back. For everyone who can't."

"Fighting back?" Squall repeated. He knew the Forest Owls had been her entire life for at least the past year, but East Academy barely had anything to do with the occupation. "Rinoa, if this is about liberating Timber—"

"It's not just about that," she said. "Don't you see? I can do so much more, now. Squall..." She looked as determined as he had ever seen her, but there was something else in her eyes. "Galbadia is evil. What they're doing has caused so much suffering — but I have the power to stop it." She looked back at the general, and her hand crept a hair closer to the other woman's neck. "I can stop them all."

"Rinoa, this isn't right," said Squall. "This is a massacre. A slaughter."

She looked back at him, narrowing her eyes. "They've done much worse to people."

"_Galbadia_ has done much worse," said Squall.

"And these people fight for Galbadia," said Rinoa. She lowered her arm, and the general slumped to the floor. "You've killed plenty of Galbadians to stop them from doing harm. Is it wrong for me to do it, too?"

"Rinoa—" Squall shook his head. "This is a _training_ base! Most of the people here are cadets! They're just kids, like—" He cut himself off as he realized where that line of thought would go.

"Like what?" asked Rinoa. "Like us, you mean? Like _me_?" Squall looked away. "Besides, they all _wanted_ to be soldiers. What kind of person wants to fight for something like Galbadia?"

This conversation was starting to seem eerily familiar, but Squall didn't want to dig deep enough to make the connection. "Rinoa, I know you don't really want this," he said. "This isn't you. You're angry over what they did to you. So am I. But this isn't the way."

That look in Rinoa's eyes was back. If he didn't know better, he'd think it made her seem almost pleading, despite the determination in the rest of her features. "Then what are you gonna do, Squall?" she asked. She glanced down at the gunblade Squall had forgotten he was holding. "Are you gonna kill the big, bad Sorceress before she goes any further? You probably could, if you tried hard enough. And I don't think I could bring myself to stop you."

"Rinoa, this is crazy," said Squall. "I'd never do anything to hurt you." He sheathed the gunblade, and held out his hand to her. "Please, just stop this. We can go away from here. I'll go anywhere so long as it's with you."

Rinoa raised her eyebrows; she looked at once disappointed and almost hurt. Because he wanted to take her away from her mission? Squall didn't understand at all.

"That's too bad," she said. "I kinda hoped you'd be stronger."

Squall was thrown sideways, crashing into the divider that separated the command center from the hall and banging his head against the bulletproof glass. He managed to remain conscious a little longer this time, and saw Rinoa unconcernedly walk past him on her way back towards the exit.


	48. Preemption

Laguna was carrying a handful of duck rolls wrapped in a napkin when he stepped into the Defense Ministry's conference room. "Guys, I was _eating_," he said, as the assembled military and civilian leaders stood to attention. Laguna waved for them to sit down, depositing the rolls on top of the files that had been laid out for him as he did so himself. "What's so important it couldn't wait till after the main course? You've gotta eat these things warm, and it took the chef like a month to get some fresh duck. It's not like Galbadia's invading or anything, right?" He took a bite out of one of the rolls before realizing that everyone was still just staring at him. "What?" he asked, with his mouth still full. "I mean, are they?"

Watching from beside the entrance, Kiros and Ward exchanged a look.

Still, no one spoke. "...What's going on, guys?" Laguna asked.

A moment later, the entrance slid open again, and Chan stepped in, walking past Laguna to sit at the far end of the table. "My apologies, Mr. President," he said formally. Then he nodded to Gho, who was sitting beside him. "Are we ready to begin?"

The defense minister nodded. "Mr. President, I'm afraid we have credible evidence that Galbadia is preparing a previously unscheduled firing of its new sea-based missile delivery system, sometime in the immediate future."

"Huh?" Laguna swallowed the rest of his roll, and picked up the others so as to let him check the reports stacked in front of him. "Why's Galbadia shooting off missiles?"

"Intelligence couldn't determine that directly, Mr. President," said Gho. "However, we have widespread reports of Galbadian military mobilizations under various pretenses. And we've confirmed that yesterday, the Galbadian military was issued a servicewide alert increasing the National Alert Condition to Level Two."

Laguna frowned. "...And the low numbers are bad, right?"

Gho narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Yes, Mr. President. Very bad."

"Mr. President, the cabinet has discussed this," said Chan. "We've come to the conclusion that Galbadia's actions are evidence of an imminent, massive attack against Esthar."

Laguna blinked. "—Wha?"

"Given recent events, it seems the only reasonable interpretation," said Gho. "Galbadian cruise missiles are capable of flying beneath our radar coverage, so as to provide little advance warning. I can't guarantee that our countermeasures will be effective."

"Okay, yeah, that sounds bad," said Laguna.

"In our opinion, Mr. President, it is bad," Gho said quickly, even though Laguna had looked like he planned to keep talking. He tapped one of the controls built into the desk, and a hologram of Esthar appeared. "We project that Galbadia has a total of six submersible missile carriers, and four to five of these are operational. Assuming the explosive yields of these Galbadian missiles are comparable to the BAG-0003As used against Balamb and Trabia Gardens last year, we've assembled a damage projection based on likely Galbadian targets." As he spoke, the Presidential Palace, Parliament, Esthar Airstation and a half-dozen other points throughout Esthar turned red. "These areas we can expect to be severely damaged or destroyed, crippling our government and capacity for military response. And I must point out that while we believe our information to be complete, Galbadia may have an additional launch capability that we are not aware of. If so, the damage could be far worse."

Laguna was shaking his head. "Woah, woah, woah, hang on, though. This doesn't make any sense! I mean, what did we do to Galbadia to make 'em shoot missiles at us all of a sudden?"

"The most reasonable explanation," said Chan, "is that Galbadia viewed your recent...overture as a direct challenge to its sovereignty."

"_What?_" asked Laguna. "Yesterday you said it made us look _weak_!"

"Yes," Chan said; the word was slightly drawn out, and sounded about as harsh as the Chairman's speech ever did. "Galbadia knows our military strength, but now believes we lack the will to use it, and is taking this opportunity to weaken us to the point where we are unable to."

Laguna was incredulous. "...Okay, anyone else wanna jump in here?" he asked, looking around the table at the generally unsympathetic faces. "—Come on, guys, there's gotta be some other explanation for this! Maybe it's just some kinda test!"

"Mr. President," said Gho, "at this point, it's important to consider our contingencies. It seems Galbadia's missile system cannot be employed immediately, so we have a small window in which to interdict it. My department has issued a status alert for Threat Level Amber, and our own ballistic missiles are ready to launch upon your order. We could eliminate the Galbadian launch facility within two hours of your launch order, and our projections show a high confidence of victory in any resulting military engagement."

Laguna just stared at him for a second. "Okay, someone tell me this is some kind of practical joke."

"Mr. President —" Chan began.

"No, come on!" said Laguna. "Look, I may have no clue what a BAG-triple-3 is, but I do know when I'm getting railroaded up the river, okay? You've got one report that maybe Galbadia's shooting off missiles, and somehow that justifies us blowing up their country? Man, I hope they're not thinking like you!"

"It's very likely that they are," said Chan. "Mr. President, we only have one chance at this. We don't want to be caught off guard like we were last year."

"Oh—" Laguna pointed a finger at Chan. "_That_'s what this is about, isn't it? You're all spooked about the Lunar Cry, and don't think I've got what it takes to defend the country! Well, maybe if you'd listened to me the first time I wanted to come out of isolation, this wouldn't be happening!"

"It _is_ happening!" Chan hissed; everyone in the room started at the man's outburst. "You may have been president for 18 years, but you've had no experience in international relations, and you've never fought a war! And you don't know the first thing about defending the country."

Laguna seemed to be the least stunned person in the room; even Chan looked surprised at his outburst. But Laguna just looked mad.

"I've fought in wars," he said, standing, glaring across the table. "An' that's more than you can say. But you know what? Whatever. I don't answer to you. Call me when you get some actual evidence, but until then, I'm not ordering your stupid launch. Got that?" He looked around at the assembled personnel, who were now looking at him with stunned expressions. "Good. Now get out of my face."

Chan seemed to debate whether or not to respond, while at the same time he worked to get himself under control. Eventually, he just stood, turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, with Gho and the rest of their entourage departing in their wake. Laguna simply glared at the door for a moment after they had gone, leaving him, Kiros and Ward alone in the room.

"...," Ward said.

"'I'm proud of you,'" Kiros translated. "Ward says."

"Yeah?" asked Laguna. "How about you?"

Kiros paused. "It's been a long time since I've seen you this passionate about something. Not since you found out Raine had died." He paused, granting Laguna a moment to wince at the memory. "I think," he continued, "I'd call this an improvement."

Laguna smiled, and flopped back into the chair. "Thanks, guys."

"...," said Ward.

Kiros nodded. "He's right. We still could have a serious problem here."

"Yeah," Laguna agreed. Then, snapping back into his usual hyperactivity, he grabbed the uneaten duck rolls and the reports that had been laid out for him. "Alright, back to my office!" he said, heading for the door. "We've got a war to stop!"

Kiros and Ward exchanged a look.

- - - — — - - -

Xu didn't notice how late it was until her office began to turn blue as the setting sun's light filtered through the Garden's ring. She'd had her nose in a terminal all afternoon, trying to keep track of the activity in Galbadia, hoping some brilliant plan would leap out at her. The online news feeds were starting to pick up on Galbadia's movements, and there were a few reports detailing the mobilization of troops or equipment being moved, but nothing that told her anything useful. But given the time difference, it was still the middle of the day in Galbadia; there might just be some update that might help.

There were two knocks on her door, and Lauren poked her head in. "Everything okay?" she asked. "I mean, besides...you know."

"I'm fine," Xu said. "What's up?"

"The cafeteria's about to close," Lauren said. "Do you want them to send something up?"

Xu shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks."

The other SeeD didn't look satisfied with this. "Xu, have you eaten anything today? I didn't even see you until after breakfast time."

"I had a Balamb fish in town this morning," said Xu. "It was good."

Lauren nodded. "Well, okay. It's nice that you're getting out of the office and all, but you should probably eat more than one thing a day. It'd help if people actually saw you sometimes, too."

"This about morale?" Xu slumped back in her chair. "You're much better at that than I am."

"Still, I'm not the Headmaster." Lauren sat down opposite the desk, leaning forward. "And our Commander's missing, and now we've lost contact with all our active SeeD teams, and god only knows what Quistis is up to. You can't stop rumors in a place like this, and things are getting out of hand."

"This situation is getting out of hand," said Xu.

"Yeah," said Lauren. "And as far as they know, we're just sitting here."

"We are just sitting here," said Xu. "It isn't like I'm not trying, you know. But I can't do anything that makes Garden a direct target, and that means not using any of the resources we have here."

"Why do you think it matters?" Lauren asked. "This Frostwater plan is gonna change everything. It can't not. It seems like trying to maintain the status quo doesn't help anyone under the circumstances."

Xu didn't answer right away, sighing. "...I don't know," she said. "Maybe I just can't bring myself to take the risk. Ever since I became Headmaster, I've just been trying to keep Garden running like everything was normal. But I keep thinking, if I just throw that away, what will the point have been?"

"It's not like things were ever that peachy when Cid was in charge," said Lauren. "He had NORG, we have Galbadia. The only time things really look okay is when we can afford not to look at where our money comes from."

"So do I just throw it all away?" asked Xu. "And hope something better comes along?"

Lauren hesitated. "I dunno," she admitted. "But maybe it starts with not always asking what Cid would do. I mean, I know what he did for all of us, but it's like they say — even Hyne made mistakes." Xu raised an eyebrow at her. "You're pretty smart yourself, Xu. Maybe what you really oughtta ask is, what do you want to do?"

Xu frowned at this; the concept was more novel than she thought it probably should have been.

Before either of them said anything else, the door opened again, and another SeeD barreled in. "Hey—" he said, skidding to a halt. "Xu, you'd better see something."

"Oren?" asked Xu. "What's going on?"

"Meg spotted something off the coast," said the SeeD. "And you'd better see it."

Xu and Lauren exchanged a look. Both rose, and followed Oren to the 3F balcony looking south. Meg was there, holding a pair of high-powered binoculars that she handed to Xu. "They're at about two o'clock," she said, pointing. "Just under the horizon."

Frowning, Xu looked through the binoculars. She saw a dozen vessels of varying size driving toward the Balamb shore. Their hulls flashed in the setting sun: boxy craft like floating, armored buses, and sleeker-looking craft with large rectangular pods mounted on turrets on their decks. The largest craft, a small city with two airships resting on its deck, was unmistakably a Galbadian command cruiser.

"Looks like the G-Navy's throwing us a party," narrated Oren.

Xu lowered the binoculars, shaking her head. "...Dammit."

"Should we transform the Garden to flight mode?" asked Meg.

"I'll get the defense roster," Lauren said.

"No," said Xu. She raised the binoculars and checked again. "They anticipated that. Three of those ships are missile boats, and we'd have to fly right past them if we tried to escape, and those airships could chase us down even if we succeeded. They could destroy Garden before we could do anything to them."

"So what?" asked Oren. "We just sit and do nothing?"

Xu sighed, then handed the binoculars back to Meg. And she fixed Oren with the most determined look anyone had seen on her for some time. "Monitor their progress. Lauren, why don't you tell everyone what's going on. — No, wait." She took a breath. "I'll do it. You three secure the storerooms."

The three SeeDs exchanged looks, then saluted and departed. Xu glared back out at the dots approaching from the horizon, then turned and headed back to her office.


	49. Soldiers

"All right, listen up!" Instructor Cardin sounded just the way Keri remembered him, directing her team in wargames during her field exam. But the bullet-holes in the wall behind him, the grime marring his face, and the jumbled noises of gunfire and magic blasts that clamored in from the main hall, cast the scene in a very different light. "We're holding every entrance point and stairwell except the front, but they've got the main hall and don't seem keen on giving it up! Now they are concentrating their forces at that point, because we know if we try to flank them we're just dividing our forces. They've got reinforcements coming; we are on our own."

He looked over the group of students and SeeDs gathered in front of him. Some of them, mostly the cadets and newer graduates, had carefully formed into ranks like they always did for the exercises; but others, many with torn and bloodstained uniforms, barely bothered. "We will make a direct assault through the main hall," he said, "push them out of our Garden, and divide _their_ forces while we secure this facility." He hesitated. "From there, perhaps the Headmaster can negotiate an end to this once we've shown our strength and resolve. Perhaps not. But none of that is your concern. Your concern begins and ends with accomplishing your mission. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the SeeDs and cadets replied in unison.

Cardin nodded. "We're doing this by the book, now, with Assault Pattern Aardvark. Green Team, you will take point; Red Team and Gold Team will provide direct support. Orange and Brown Teams, you will reinforce our teams on the 2F overlook, and provide magic support. All other teams are on standby; be ready for deployment anywhere at anytime!" His hand snapped up in a regulation salute. "Move out!"

And that was it — no reassurance or rousing speech, which Keri could really have used at the moment. The students dispersed, groups coalescing at their designated positions. She was part of Gold Team, and so fell into position behind the more seasoned SeeDs in green paratrooper's uniforms — indistinguishable from those of the Galbadians, save for the Garden logo painted on the shoulder.

"How do they think this is going to play out?" Sean demanded, as he took position next to her. "I mean, it's like last year all over again, but Martine thinks we've got a chance this time?"

"Yeah, I'll bet I know what _you_ were doing last year," Tavin growled.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Sean spun around to face the other SeeD.

Tavin stepped up, grabbed Sean by the arm, and and twisted him back to face down the hallway toward the enemy. "It means shut up and do your job!" he snapped, as Sean squirmed himself free.

Keri shook her head, but didn't interject. More SeeDs were limping down the hallway towards them, a sign that the fighters in the main hall weren't likely to hold much longer.

She glanced to her side, where Mara was checking her gun. "This is happening because of us," she said, voice barely making it out of her throat. "Isn't it?"

Mara looked up, then back down. "Doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"All teams, forward!" yelled Instructor Cardin, cutting off the discussion, and the SeeDs started down the hallway. Surrounded by her fellow classmates and SeeDs, Keri felt an odd sense of security — odd since it came with its fair share of dread.

Orange and Brown teams hurried ahead to get up the stairs to the 2F walkway. It wasn't ideal, but they wanted to be in position when Keri and the rest launched their attack, and there was nowhere for the mass of SeeDs to wait under cover while the support teams got into position. G-Garden might offer training as good as any military base, but it had some drawbacks as a fortress. And because there were already SeeDs fighting in the hall, the attack could only be so organized.

Green Team was setting the pace, and timed it pretty well; the first bolts of magic shot down from the 2F just after they quickstepped into the hall. Keri didn't really know what to expect, and couldn't see much clearly at first; the hall was full of bodies, moving and prone, blue, red and green, and as crowded as she'd seen on the busiest assembly day. The crowd was receding, as the Galbadians fell back before the influx of new SeeDs; Keri was swept straight to the entrance without finding anyone to fight.

The SeeD captains were yelling for them to hold back and form their own ranks, and she started to work out what was happening. She saw the Galbadians disappearing into the side halls, forming new lines in front of the classroom doors. Most of them seemed to have disappeared, as she could only count perhaps a couple dozen, but she guessed more were hiding out of sight. If they chased the Galbadians out the main entrance, where most of them were headed, those in the connecting halls could cut them off from the sides. If they split their forces between the three groups of Galbadians, they probably wouldn't have the numbers to head off any reinforcements.

"Green team! Gold team!" Instructor Cardin was pointing at the west hall entrance, where the Galbadians were hurrying to re-form the Garden's own barricades, long since overrun. The team captains soon picked up the call and pushed toward the soldiers, while Red Team's SeeDs held back to hold the main entrance. Keri didn't have long to think about how lucky they were.

The checkpoint had been demolished, the security gates either snapped off or blasted with magic or grenades, but the debris still looked tough to negotiate. Bodies lay among the wreckage, too, some of them still moving. Keri ran to one, a SeeD she'd seen in the hallway once or twice and she thought had been on the basketball team. Now almost the whole right side of him was charred black, up to the shoulder. "It's okay," she said, because that's what people usually said in situations like this, but he didn't even look at her. His eyes were fixed on the entrance, or the Galbadians massing on the road beyond.

Mara knelt beside her as Keri applied a Cure stone. "Let's find a medic," she said, taking the SeeD's uninjured arm. "Come on, we'd better —"

The next thing Keri knew, she was lying on her back, ears ringing, dust and debris raining down on her. The entryway seemed nearly twice as large as it should be, and the shape didn't look right either — suddenly ragged and black.

Struggling to her feet, she caught the shape of an Iron Clad looming toward her, felt the floor vibrating as it rolled into the opening, and started to guess what had just happened. The vehicle's beam cannon still held a dying red glow, as its gatling gun flashed at the shapes running through her periphery.

She couldn't see where Mara had gone, or the SeeD she'd been trying to help. New piles of debris from the blast had changed the shape of the floor, and her visibility was limited to the ceiling and the vehicle looming in front of her. She couldn't look around without rolling over, and her mind warned her that she shouldn't do anything to attract the machine's attention.

On the other hand, she was lying exposed in the middle of the floor, and if she didn't move there was a good chance the thing would run right over her.

The nearest cover was the bottom half of what had been the security stall, about four meters off to her left. The door was hanging open, so all Keri needed to do was get herself onto her feet and across the floor before the Iron Clad could get a bearing on her. It, or the crowd of Galbadian soldiers who were charging up behind it.

Three flashes of lightning hit the Iron Clad, and the machine lurched and faltered in its advance. SeeDs were charging up to meet it, setting new battle lines and shouting commands she couldn't quite hear over the ringing in her ears. Still, Keri saw an opportunity, and twisted onto her side — or tried, but spots appeared at the edge of her vision and a wave of nausea hit her, so she couldn't follow through. Scuffing her boots against the floor to ensure her legs still worked, she began to drag herself along the floor instead, backing toward cover.

A strobed flash from the Iron Clad, and Keri felt the shudder of its gatling gun again. The light illuminated an arm off to her right, mostly covered under fallen masonry, plus a shock of hair in Mara's shade of red. That was the wrong direction for cover; she'd need to crawl right in front of the Galbadian war machine; but all the abler SeeDs were busy fighting the thing.

Keri rolled onto her front, nearly blacking out in the process, and began crawling across the battlefield. She half-heard a couple of shouts that might have been aimed at her — the ones that sounded like "Get out of there!" or "Are you crazy?" — but she might have just been projecting. She felt debris grinding between her chest and the floor, and digging into her arms, which was a relief because it meant at least some of her senses were working.

She tried not to pay too much attention to the battle raging about three meters off to her left as she edged her way across the floor. More SeeDs were falling, she could tell, and nobody else seemed to be coming to their aid. Maybe the Galbadians who'd dispersed into the halls had staged a counterattack, she supposed. Or maybe the beam cannon had taken out more of her friends than she'd thought. She didn't have time to think about it.

Mara lay amid what had been about half of the main entrance's archway. Her legs were invisible under the debris, but she didn't seem to be pinned down by the largest of it, and Keri found a pulse. She wasn't sure if just trying to pull her friend out was a particularly good idea, but the Iron Clad loomed large in her periphery and she opted to go for it.

Her first, experimental tug on Mara's arm failed to budge her. With no flashlight and Mara unconscious, Keri had no way of knowing just how stuck she was. She cast off the smaller pieces of broken ceiling, hoping to clear her view, and felt down along Mara's legs to see if she could find the source of the trouble. So she was reasonably well shielded behind the fallen arch when the Iron Clad's beam cannon fired again.

Keri's hearing had just been starting to come back when the weapon shrieked past her, and she felt the air burning against her neck. She felt the floor rumbling, twisted around to look out, and saw the machine was on the move again, with fallen SeeDs piling up against its wheelguards. Unopposed, it rolled through the gate, exhaust stacks belching smoke up to pool in the broken ceiling. Then, stopping, it began to turn, swinging its guns around toward her.

Mara's saber lay beside her, underneath a large but not unmanageable chunk of ceiling. Keri had lost her own in the initial blast and hadn't given it any thought until now. Wrenching Mara's weapon out, she forced herself to remember her training and check the magic stones set into the hilt. Then she tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't comply, and she wasn't sure if it was the concussion or simple terror. The Galbadians probably didn't care.

Just as the gatling gun had lined up on her, the whole machine shuddered. Keri caught a red-tinged glow behind it, flickering and brightening until flames erupted from the craft. A moment later, the whole thing exploded into a pillar of reddish fire, warping the Iron Clad inside it.

Keri watched, mesmerized, as the flames died down and left the tank as a half-formed mass of slag in the middle of the lobby's entrance. Her legs finally steeled enough to let her rise off the floor, tightening her grip on the saber but not thinking to bring it to the ready.

Three figures stepped out from behind the wreckage, two men and a woman. Keri only recognized one of them: The tattered grey trenchcoat, blond hair and scar across his nose were familiar to any student who had lived through Galbadia Garden's part in the last Sorceress War.

"You're—" she began, but her voice caught and her eyes drifted. There was movement within the iron Clad's wreckage; she caught the figure of a Galbadian officer rising, raising his gun.

Seifer Almasy whipped his gunblade around in a blurry arc, delivering a single shot straight into the soldier's neck without even looking back. Then he glanced at Keri as if he'd just been checking his watch.

"Yeah," he said. "You guys miss me?"

- - **- — — -** - -

By the time Tolmar opened her eyes to see the ceiling of East Academy's infirmary above her, she'd managed to work out that she'd survived the Sorceress' attack. She wasn't religious enough to have a clear idea what Hyne's purgatory would look like, but she guessed it wouldn't involve quite so much of a headache.

"General?" A medic was leaning over her, and Tolmar had the vague idea that he'd said her name a few times before. Judging by his blood-stained and disheveled appearance, she couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few hours.

Then she couldn't think, because the medic was shining a light into her eyes.

"Report," she croaked, reminding herself not to admonish the man for doing his job. "What's the situation?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much, ma'am," the medic said. "The fighting's over, but we got a lot of casualties. That's about my department." Apparently satisfied, he pocketed the flashlight again. "Seems your eyes are focusing. Can you tell me your name?"

Tolmar gave him a stern look, then swung her legs over the side of the medical bed and pushed herself upright. Doing so nearly washed away her vision and compounded the headache, but she did her best not to let on. "I need to know the status of this facility," she said. "If you could fetch your supervisor, please?" Another pointed look at the medic was enough to send him hurrying down the rows of cots.

And he hadn't been kidding about the casualties. The infirmary, which dated back to the Dollet Army garrison, had been jammed with as many mobile cots as it could fit, though most of them were now empty. Several didn't seem to have been used at all, a sure sign that the medics had over-estimated the number of wounded — or, more likely, the number of survivors.

The medics hadn't had to remove her uniform, so Tolmar presumed she hadn't needed surgery. Whatever the Sorceress had done to her, she should be able to walk it off.

"General." Tolmar saw Colonel Harridan weaving through the beds toward her. Evidently uninjured, he had traded the dress uniform he'd worn at their morning briefing for a suit of black fatigues.

"You're very prompt, Colonel," she replied, adjusting her own uniform and using the motion to disguise how unsteady she was on her feet.

"I was visiting the wounded when I heard you were awake," said Harridan. "I supposed you'd like to be brought up to date."

"I would." Tolmar started for the exit. "I'm alive, so I hope that means we managed to neutralize the Sorceress."

Harridan made a grimace. "I'm afraid not. We did secure the perimeter before the Sorceress attempted to leave, but she walked right through us. That's where most of the wounded came from; the ones she hit on the way in, didn't survive."

"She made a direct attack on a Galbadian military base," Tolmar said, "and you're telling me she's still at large?"

To his credit, Harridan didn't mention that most of the Galbadians stationed at East Academy were cadets, as their garrison had decamped along with most of their mechanized units to support Naraka's invasion plan. Instead, he grimaced and nodded. "Our GIM units pursued her into the forest, but she took them out before our troops could catch back up. No trace of her after that."

Sighing, Tolmar led him out of the infirmary's door and out onto the grounds. The sun had disappeared behind the Monterosa Plateau, and the base's floodlights covered it in stark white relief. She could still see a swath of rubble from wrecked mechs and patches of burned earth forming an arrow from the perimeter wall — where a temporary bulwark covered the hole the Sorceress had burned through it — straight to the administration building where Tolmar had been attacked.

"How many dead?" she asked.

"Fifty-nine," said Harridan. "Plus another seven critically wounded. Eighteen injured in all, including yourself, ma'am."

Tolmar turned around to look at the administration building, where a barricade had been placed in front of what remained of the main entrance. "Fifty-nine dead and eighteen wounded," she repeated. "That's quite a discrepancy."

"Came from how she fought," said Harridan. "Extreme prejudice, I'd call it. You know I saw that mess with Edea back in Deling City, but this was something else. Like watching a hurricane."

Tolmar remembered the Sorceress' attack mostly in flashes — the fire, flying bodies, then the invisible hand at her throat. "But I survived," she mused. "She had me completely at her mercy."

"We can only assume she was distracted. She attempted to leave immediately after the confrontation in the control room, so perhaps she either presumed you dead or wasn't concerned enough to make sure. Our interrogators haven't made much progress yet as to exactly what happened in there."

"Interrogators?" Tolmar frowned. "You said the Sorceress escaped, Colonel."

"Yes, ma'am. I didn't mean the Sorceress."

Tolmar frowned. In with the images of the battle — it didn't seem quite right to call it that — was one, of the Sorceress advancing, eyes empty and cold. And someone else behind her.

"Show me," she said.

The colonel led her back to the administration building, and down into the cell block used for prisoners of war. The cells were old, dating back to the Dollet days, as they were only used for temporary holding before detainees were sent off to D-District. Only one was occupied now, watched by a pair of guards.

Dressed as he was in the remains of a SeeD uniform, the prisoner would have been recognizable to Tolmar even if his face hadn't been on top of the Most Wanted list for a week, and in newsfeeds for a year before that. He was sitting on a bench, handcuffed to the wall, and looking down at his feet.

"Let me in," Tolmar said to the guard, who nodded, stepped up to the steel bars and opened the oversized padlock. She stepped into the room, resting a hand on the back of the chair bolted into the center of the room. The man still didn't look up.

"Commander Leonhart," she said. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

- - **- — — -** - -

The afternoon sun gleamed off the watch towers that stood over the Lanker bluffs, as the sea breeze whipped at the blue-and-white Navy standards that flew above their gates. Below, the docks that had once housed Timber's meager fleet were lined with Galbadian warships. The sea gleamed beyond the shadows of the cliffs, and the gibbous moon was just rising over the horizon.

"I don't see any submarines," said Irvine.

"Maybe they're all underwater?" asked Selphie.

"The Galbadian military likes to build their facilities underground," said Nida. "That way they're harder to attack from the air. Probably most of the docks are built into the cliffs."

"'Probably?'" Jeck repeated. "Did those secret Galbadian plans not even tell us what the layout of the base would be?"

"Just a timetable," said Quistis. "And we don't have time to find out. According to their action plan, Galbadia could launch the missiles at any moment. They'll want to strike Esthar during the night, and it's already after sunset there."

"So we just run in without a plan, and hope we just figure it out?" Jeck challenged.

Quistis glanced at Selphie. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Yeah," Selphie agreed, but she didn't put any enthusiasm behind the word. Quistis guessed that she was remembering how that mission had ended, and mainly felt obligated to keep a brave face.

Jeck didn't. "Are you all insane? We're talking about marching into a Galbadian military base right after they've mobilized for invasion, and we don't even know what to do once we're in there."

"I know it's risky," said Quistis.

"'Risky' was walking up to within sight of the place," said Jeck, motioning toward the watch towers. "Trying to fight our way in and take out the missiles, that's suicide."

"Hey!" said Zell. "We've done it before. And Selphie just had three people that time!"

"You think the Galbadians don't remember that, too?" Jeck asked. "They're rounding up SeeDs; they're already on the lookout. And if I remember right, you barely got out with your lives, and the missiles got launched anyway!"

"You actually have a suggestion, man?" Irvine asked. "Or do you just like to complain?"

Jeck didn't miss a beat. "Easy. We go to ground, observe the Galbadians' movements, find some way to sabotage the army where they're actually vulnerable. We have their whole attack plan, who says they won't put it on hold if we cause enough trouble on the homefront?"

"Weren't you the one saying we shouldn't be pickin' fights with Galbadia at all?" asked Zell.

"Yeah, well that chocobo's kind of left the forest, hasn't it? What I'm saying is we should be smart, and not do the first crazy thing that comes into Quistis' head!"

It was the first time he'd looked at her since the argument had started, and suddenly everyone else was, too. And even if Jeck hadn't exactly swayed them, there was plenty of doubt in their eyes.

_They need a leader,_ she realized. The year after she'd lost her Instructor's license had been the happiest in her life, as she'd learned to let go of her need to be the whole Garden's big sister. Now she seemed to have taken charge of this group without even realizing what she was doing.

Jeck was a year older, but she was the senior SeeD. She'd told herself that the group had needed someone to take charge after Squall ran off, someone who understood what Squall was doing and might be able to salvage matters. Then, she'd been the one who understood why Xu had sent them the Galbadians' plans. She'd told herself it was the only way.

But she was starting to realize that leaving her past behind wasn't as simple as she'd told herself.

"I know it's going to be hard," she said. "I don't know if we'll succeed, either. I can come up with all sorts of questions. What if we fail? What if the threat isn't what we think? For all we know, the information was leaked to us by the Galbadians, trying to provoke an incident with Garden." She stopped, realizing this speech wasn't likely to reassure anyone. "…But we have to leave our doubts behind. If we choose to stay in the shadows while the Galbadians launch their attack, there will be a slaughter. And then there will be a war."

She looked at their faces, drawing herself up straighter and trying to project some sense of confidence. "We're all children of the last world war," she said. "We call them Sorceress Wars, and perhaps that's fair. But even if a Sorceress caused them, the killing was done by soldiers, and guns, and bombs. Garden was created to prevent another such tragedy, and I don't think that means defeating the Sorceress. If we can stop another war, if we can help save lives…I think it's our duty as SeeDs to try."

They stood staring at her for a moment, long enough that Quistis began to think she should have come up with a more inspirational ending.

"You still don't have a plan," Jeck said. But his tone seemed to have less fight in it.

"So they're long odds," said Irvine, shrugging. "Your chance to be the big hero. Give you a new story to impress the cadets when you get back."

After another moment, Nida took half a step forward. "We do still have those uniforms from the Galbadians who were escorting us."

"But there aren't enough for all of us," said Paige.

Nida shrugged. "I've been monitoring the Galbadians' radios. Sounds like they're rounding up all SeeDs, not just us. So we pretend we just rounded up one of the field teams, and are taking them into custody. The Galbadians will be looking out for us, but they'll be looking for eight SeeDs, not three SeeDs and five soldiers." He glanced at Quistis. "Should be enough to get us inside."

Quistis gave him a smile. "Then I guess we do have a plan."


End file.
